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SCENE ON THE SHENANDOAH RIVER 




AT THE 

MERCY OF FATE 

A Tale of the Shenandoah Valley 

BY 


OLIN AUSTIN PALMER 

H 

Author of “The Mystery of Chesney Hall, and Other Stories” 
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 



Advance Press 
Port Republic, Virginia 




Copyrighted 1912 
by the Author 



©CLA347348 


This book is dedicated 
to the character represented as 
Edna Lancing, 

whose noble influence when a child 
the inspiring theme of the story. 





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ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page. 

Scene on the Shenandoah River Frontispiece ^ 

I can see nothing but a fairy vision 22 

If it is your spirit that visits me, why do you come? _ . 73 

We entered an alcove of the conservatory where we 

were quite alone 122 



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CHAPTER 1. 


“The sky was blue as the Summer sea, 

The depths were cloudless overhead; 

The air was calm as it could be, 

There was no sight nor sound of dread. ’ ’ 

It was a bright sunny morning in June— 
not a cloud to obscure the blue dome of 
heaven. Every now and again a cool and 
mild breeze would stir, refreshing, balmy 
and invigorating, which made one cheerful 
and hopeful. It was an ideal day— one of 
Nature’s brightest, and one you rarely see: 
a perfect cerulean sky, clear, bright, with 
an atmosphere in keeping with it— not warm 
enough to be sultry, but just that delightful 
temperature which we relish in contrast with 
the cold of Winter. 

The green grass was high, and trees were 
dressed in new foliage, flowers beginning to 
bloom— everywhere the splendor of verdant 
green was manifesting itself in that silent 
but mysterious manner peculiar to Spring- 


14 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


time when the earth dons its most gorgeous 
attire. During the night we had had a rain, 
and now as the sun shone upon the vegetation 
it fairly danced in the morning light. Every- 
thing seemed to be thankful that another 
day had dawned with the bright sunshine to 
bless it. 

All this seemed to have, in some mysteri- 
ous way, a peculiar influence over me, and 
I began to anticipate that the near future 
would deal kindly with me. I felt that I 
was to be relieved of some burden. Some- 
thing was going to happen, but for my life 
I could not explain it. 

Presently the train came steaming into 
the station where I had been waiting to 
change cars, for on my way to Boston, Mas- 
sachusetts, I had stopped over night at 
Bevery, a railway junction, on a little busi- 
ness. I found a seat in the forward part 
of the coach which faced the passengers, and 
looking in front of me my eyes were pecu- 
liarly attracted to a young girl who sat not 
far away. She was apparently about fifteen 
years of age, and neatly dressed. It oc- 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 15 

curred to me that this was not the first time I 
had seen her. I judged it was her mother 
who sat with her. I kept my seat, and at 
intervals cast glances upon this girl, doubt- 
less a stranger, but who held me under a 
peculiar charm. Could it be possible that I 
had seen her before, and if so, where? 

I had been riding some time, but all the 
while I could not banish the thought that 
someone whom I had known was present. I 
noticed, too, as I gazed upon this girl that 
there was something about her which was 
strikingly familiar, or else I had seen some- 
one very much resembling her. A striking 
resemblance is not uncommonly met with in 
extensive travel, but I could not account for 
the effect of this circumstance, if indeed she 
were a stranger. 

Time passes on, but this feeling does not 
abate. I am sure I have seen this girl some- 
where; I have met her in some way. If I 
could get a closer view of her face I feel that 
I could be positive. I have been rather a 
student of human nature, and have made a 
study of faces, and I never forget one. I am 


16 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


restless. I have never been under such a 
charm before. I left my seat and walked to 
the rear end of the coach, and in doing so I 
was enabled to pass very close to her and 
secured a good view. Yes, I had met this 
girl before. I then returned to my seat and 
recalled the incident which came to me with 
such a vivid recollection that I could almo.st 
see myself a boy again. I am only nineteen 
years old— just grown— as I appear to the 
reader now riding upon the cars. You see, 
I am not far removed from my boyhood, but 
several years must be passed over in order that 
I may review the time when I met this girl. 
I naturally feel much older than I am, for I 
have been called a “little old man.” 

When I was eleven years old, Ihnng at 
my home in Eidgeley, Virginia, I chanced 
to meet a little girl of about eight or nine 
j'ears. Mrs. Lancing had come to visit 
Mrs. Arlington, and brought Edna with 
her. They had not been there more than a 
day or two until I was acquainted with 
them. Aiy Arlington and I had been 
great friends, and I fancied myself in love 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


17 


with the fair damsel; but when Edna came 
I was compelled to change my place of 
worship, and the shrine which fascinated 
me before was forsaken in favor of Edna. 
Oh, the courting we did — if such you could 
call it — might make some old lovers, who 
have since grown cold, smile if they had 
seen us. Mrs. Ar ling ton would often tease 
us; but of course we were very sincere in our 
devotion. Ah — whether I am fickle or not 
you can judge after you hear my story. I 
was certain I loved Ary until I saw Edna 
Trancing and talked with her. Then, —Well, 
I thought my devotion for Ary was as noth- 
ing compared to the fondness for Edna. 
Ary was jealous, and refused to even speak 
to me, going about with her nose turned 
toward the sky, as if she were endeavoring 
to inhale the perfume from the treetops. 
Perhaps I should not have become so in- 
fatuated with her guest, but it was not in 
my power to control. I was completely en- 
veloped in a fog, as the sailors speak, but 
this was a different kind of fog. This fog 
was so dense that I could not see across the 


18 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


deck of my ship; and whether the ship was 
a large ocean steamer or a bay yacht, it 
matters little. I might have been blind: 
some people say love is blinding. Mrs. Lan- 
cing remained nearly two weeks, and every 
night found me there talking with Edna. 
Her manner of conversation, her vivacity, 
and her modest bearing, completely charmed, 
me. What courting we children did! The 
love notes we exchanged during the day 
must have been amusing, for her mother 
chanced some way to get hold of one which 
seemed to amuse her. She laughed heartily 
over its contents, and said to us that she 
would like to keep it till we were grown up 
then she would show it to Edna. I tried to 
get it from her, but she said she would not 
take anything for it, and kept it. I was 
very sorry when they left. Edna was loth to 
leave and we parted in tears. I accompanied 
her to the station, and as I gazed after the 
departing train till it was lost to view I felt 
that it was really taking my joy away from 
me. They moved to New York City, and I 
never saw her any more. I heard from her 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


19 


once, then lost her address, and so I could 
not write to her again. * * * 

At last we reach Boston. Yes, Mrs. Lan- 
cing and Edna will leave the train, too. I 
could have introduced myself to them had 
I not been so engrossed with thoughts of my 
childhood— Perhaps I can yet get an oppor- 
tunity to do so. I will watch them. 

We leave the train at the South Station, 
which is the largest station in the world, and 
a very commodious place. It required cau- 
tious maneuvering to keep in sight of them, 
and the greatest difficulty was encountered 
when I endeavored to board the elevated, but 
I managed it, and was again riding with 
them. They had not observed me, so I was 
confident there had been no recognition. 

They left the elevated train and entered 
Hotel Kenedy, and I was also ready to follow 
them into the same hotel. After they had 
registered I approached the register, and 
there I read this: “Mrs. Lancingand daughter. 
New York City, Room 124.” Yes, I was 
correct. I asked the clerk how long they 
were to remain, and he replied that he did 


20 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


not know, but supposed several days, as 
they had a trunk to be delivered. I noted 
the name of the hotel, and then continued 
to my destination on street. 

I now realize that I made a mistake in not 
introducing myself to them while on the 
train. I would have done so, but was afraid 
I would have had to appear in the awkward* 
position of making explanations. I believe 
I can manage it all right yet. 

I went to the home of a friend of mine 
who was expecting me. In the afternoon 
we took a little stroll about the city, and 
visited some places of historical interest. It 
was in Boston harbor that the first incident 
occurred to fire the Revolution. We visited 
the Bunker Hill monument, which is a point 
of interest. 

Next day I transacted some business which 
was the primary cause of my trip to Boston; 
and then I decided I would try to see my 
friends at Hotel Kenedy. I wrote a little 
note to Miss Lancing, stating that a friend 
of hers whom she had not seen for several 
years learned of her presence in the city. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


21 


and would greatly appreciate the opportunity 
of seeing her a few minutes. I sent the note 
up to her room by one of the servants, and 
was shown into one of the private parlors. 
In the center of the room was a table with a 
magazine upon it. I picked up the book 
and began to turn its pages, but my mind 
was upon Edna and what I should say to her 
when she came in— or would she come in at 
all? I could not interest myself in the book: 
nor did I care. The time seemed to drag. 
Would she come? Minutes seemed like hours, 
but really it was not long that I waited until 
I heard the door open softly, and the rustling 
of skirts told me that someone had entered. 
I did not look up at once, but hesitated. The 
person came closer; I turned and faced her. 
My eyes met those of a neatly dressed girl, 
of medium height, fair skin, large dark blue, 
hopeful eyes, closely-cut features, and rather 
dark hair, inclining to curl, which hung 
playfully down her shoulders. Her forehead 
was wide and rather full, and the nose 
slightly aquiline, and a well-shaped mouth, 
with lips as red and tempting as a ripe 


22 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


meadow strawberry. Yes, the same girl I 
saw on the train. Indeed, she is prettier 
than when I saw her yesterday. She is 
standing at a little distance from me, wait- 
ing for me to speak to her. I feel dazed; I 
am going blind: I can see nothing but a fairy 
vision. I know not how long I stood there 
detaining her, for I lost all self-control. She, 
was the first to speak— impatiently, I sup- 
pose; she said: 

“Did you wish to see me?” 

“Yes. I beg your pardon,” said I as I 
made a step forward. “I knew you several 
years ago, and 1 hoped you would be pleased 
to see one of your old friends. Y ou are Miss 
Edna Lancing, are you not?” 

“Yes, sir; that is my name.” 

I asked her if she knew me, and she re- 
plied that she did not. 

“You have not seen me for quite awhile, 
but I recognized you on the train yesterday 
morning. W e came into the city on the same 
train.” 

She evidently did not recognize me, though 
I could tell by her scrutiny that an effort 





PAGE 22 


I CAN SEE NOTHING BUT A FAIRY VISION 



AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


23 


was made to do so. How could I make her 
believe who I am? 

“When I saw you on the train I should 
have introduced myself then. I don’t know 
why I did not.” 

“You have not told me your name.” 

“And you do not recognize me?” 

“I believe I have seen you somewhere, but 
I am not certain.” 

“Then I shall ask you one question, and I 
feel sure you will remember me.” 

“Perhaps I may,” she replied. 

“Did you once visit Mrs. Arlington, at 
Ridgeley, Virginia, with your mother?” 

“Yes,” she replied; “I remember it quite 
well,” and her face lit up. 

“You were there more than a week. It is 
now a long time ago, but I remember very 
well that every evening found me at Mrs. 
Arlington’s house talking with you.” Then, 
she was sure she remembered me. ■ “I went 
to the station with you when you left.” 

“Yes, I remember now,” she said, offering 
me her hand. “ I am so glad to see you, Mr. 
Earle. I had begun to think I should never 


24 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


see you again. That was long ago, and we 
have both grown so. I felt that I knew you 
when I first saw you, but was afraid I might 
be mistaken.” 

“Yes, of course. You have grown to be 
a young lady now, and when you were at 
Ridgeley you were just a little bit of a girl,” 
(indicating a point about two feet from the ' 
floor). “It seems so strange what changes 
take place in a few years. How long will 
you remain here?” 

“Mama and I will be here about a week.” 

‘ ‘Au revoir. I must go now, but would like 
to call again.” 

“Why, can’t you stay longer? We have 
scarcely exchanged a dozen words. I know 
Mama would be glad to see you.” 

“I will see her next time,” I said, and 
left her. 

The next minute I was on the street. I 
had seen her and she knew me. 

No sooner had I discovered myself upon 
the street than I regretted my move. Why 
did I leave? Oh, the questions I wanted to 
ask her! What strange power controlled me 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


25 


that I should have acted so? Why should I 
have hurried off when there was no need for 
it? I should have been more composed and 
have acted more like a man, and not have left 
a friend in such manner. Well, I was so ex- 
cited at the joy of meeting her, that I cer- 
tainly could nothave known what I wasdoing. 

It was late when I fell asleep that night. 
The meeting with Edna seemed to keep me 
awake, so it was impossible for me to sleep 
for a long time. I could not banish her 
beautiful face from my mind. Nor did I cease 
thinking about her when sleep took control 
of me— I dreamed about her. I dreamed 
that she and I were engaged to be married, 
and were only waiting for an appointed time, 
which we could not arrange. In some way 
or other we were prevented from setting a 
time, as a barrier would continually arise be- 
tween us to interfere. Edna said it would 
all come right, and declared she would never 
marry unless she married me. I awoke 
worried, and wondered what such a dream 
meant. I could not think what could pre- 
vent our marriage if we loved each other. 


CHAPTER 2. 


Everything passed off very quietly for the 
next day or two. Attending to my business, 
and spending some time with my friend, see- ' 
ing some parts of the city— visiting places 
of interest— thus I enjoyed myself. At no 
time during my stay in Boston could I pre- 
vent my mind from reverting to the few 
minutes spent with Edna Lancing in the 
hotel parlor. And I wanted to call again. 

I could think of nothing without the imagi- 
nar}"- appearance of her beautiful face. Nor 
did I regret it. I would not have banished 
her had it been possible. When I could stand 
it no longer, I concluded I had better visit 
the hotel again. I sent Edna a note stating 
that the same person from Virginia who 
called on her Wednesday was awaiting her 
in the same place, and that I hoped to spend a 
longer time than before, and trusted to have 
the pleasure of seeing her in a few minutes. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


27 


Presently she came in. We were soon en- 
gaged in conversation, acquainting each other 
with our whereabouts since we separated at 
Ridgeley. We spent a long time talking. 
Then Mrs. Lancing came in. She was glad 
to see me, though it was difficult for her to 
recognize in the man of today the boy she 
had known eight years ago— I had grown so. 
She did not remain long, and left Edna and 
me together. Perhaps she thought I would 
rather see Edna alone. It was nearly night 
when I took my departure. I had found 
myself so much attracted by this charming 
girl that it was not easy to leave her. Edna 
possessed polish and refinement. I did not 
leave without making an engagement for 
Friday to take a stroll about the city. 
****** 
Promptly at the hour appointed I called at 
the hotel for Edna. She was ready and 
waiting for me. We had arranged to make 
a visit to some places of interest about the 
city. Boston abounds with interesting and 
notable places which couple the city with 
many incidents of our country’s history. I 


28 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


could not select a better time to visit these 
places than in the company of Edna. 

Leaving the hotel we stroll across the Com- 
mon, a large and pretty place dotted with 
many shade trees, with benches placed under 
them where people may rest and enjoy the 
fresh air. Crossing the Common we reach 
Capitol Hill. This is called Beacon Hill from 
the fact that in Revolutionary times the 
beacon lights were burned here. From the 
tower in the State House we obtain a mag- 
nificent view of the city and its surroundings. 
Then we find at the comer of Washington 
and Milk streets the Old South church, where 
the British made their headquarters during 
their stay in Boston. We stroll down News- 
paper Row, where nearly all the newspapers 
of the city are published, after which we 
reach the Old State House at the head of 
State street. Proceeding from there along 
Washington street and Adams Square into 
Dock Square, we reach Faneuil Hall, the 
“Cradle of Liberty.” Then we walk down 
North street to the Old North Church, from 
the tower of which the lanterns were hung 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


29 


for Paul Revere. Retracing our steps to 
Merchants’ Row, we visit Quincy Market 
next to Faneuil Hall. From there we pass 
through Merchants’ Row to the Stock Ex- 
change on State street. From there we go 
to Devonshire street and enter the Globe 
building, the home of the leading newspaper 
of the city, and are shown through its various 
departments. Leaving Newspaper Row, we 
stroll up Washington street, stopping in sev- 
eral department stores. We find that we 
have taken in the principal part of the city, 
and enjoyed the stroll immensely. 

Edna and I return to Hotel Kenedy. I 
dine with Mrs. Lancing and Edna, and after 
supper Mrs. Lancing excuses herself, saying 
she has some letters to write. No one ap- 
preciates this little circumstance more than 
I do. This is my last night in Boston, for 
tomorrow I shall leave for my home, and I 
want to see Edna alone. We are in the 
private parlor. After mentioning some of 
the little incidents of the happy time we had 
in Ridgeley, I say: “Edna— (I want to al- 
ways call you Edna, for it reminds me of the 


30 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


pleasant childhood days at Ridgeley) — what 
a happy time we had then: I shall never for- 
get it as long as I live. But that is not 
what I wanted to tell you. ” Then I hesitated. 

“What were you going to tell me, 
Herbert?” she inquired, when she found I 
had stopped. 

“Oh, I was going to tell you something 
else.” 

“lam listening,” she said, smiling sweetly. 

I have often wondered if she really knew 
at that time just what I wanted to tell her. 
Perhaps intuition assisted her in surmising, 
but I never found out. It was very nice of 
her to say, “I am listening,” in the bewitch- 
ing, coaxing manner peculiar to her. Doubt- 
less I would have lost courage to have told 
her if she had not helped me out. As I 
looked into her beautiful face, the laughing 
blue eyes which glowed with a radiance of 
love (what else could it be— she was really 
an affectionate and lovely girl) I was com- 
pelled to tell her. What did I tell her? I 
have tried to give you, dear reader, a history 
of the most important incidents of my life. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


31 


and I shall not omit this one. I told her 
of my love for her— and I told her with all 
the pathos of a loving heart. 

“I cannot say I am surprised,” returned 
Edna, after I had confessed my love. “But 
I believe you should have waited for some 
other time, Herbert.” 

Then I began to ask myself the question: 
Would there have been another time, or was 
it that she preferred to spare me the pain of 
a disappointment? 

“Why?” I inquired, not exactly under- 
standing her. 

“We are too young to talk in that way.” 

“But, Edna, does that keep me from lov- 
ing you?” 

“No, of course not. I do not exclaim, as 
some girls would, and express surprise. I 
could not, for my heart has long felt it, and 
I am not surprised that . you should have told 
me. ^ I am glad you do care for me, but we 
are too young to talk of that.” 

“I have not seen you for such a long time 
that I could not help breaking the news to 
you, should it be called such. I have never 


32 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


ceased loving you since I first saw you at 
Ridgeley, and I feel relieved now that I have 
told you. I do not fear that you will not re- 
ciprocate my love unless you have changed 
since then.” 

“It has been a long time since we were at 
Ridgeley: I shall never forget it,” said Edna, 
thoughtfully. ' 

“If you love me, Edna, why should I not 
know it?” 

“If you loved me all this time, why did 
you not write to me?” she asked. 

“The reason is that I lost your address, 
and could not get it from anyone I knew. 
Ary Arlington promised me she would get it 
for me, but she was unable to do so. Still, 
you might have written me, as you knew 
where my home was.” 

“Yes, I might have done that, but we do 
so much traveling, and I just thought per- 
haps you were not at home. Besides, I was 
so young. I did not forget you— how could 
I forget? And I hoped we would meet again. ” 

“Edna, will you promise to be my wife?” 

“What would Mama say? I am too young 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


33 


to decide such a serious question. I would 
rather not promise that at this time.” 

“I hope your mother would not object,” I 
replied. “Do you prefer someone else?” 
“No.” 

“Well, as you do not deny your love for 
me, and you say you do not prefer another, 
it will give me some hope. You have no 
objections to me?” 

“None whatever. I have been out in the 
world all my life and have seen a great many 
people, but I must admit that I have always 
kept a tender spot in my heari; for you, and 
I feel different toward you than toward any- 
one else. I think our fondness for each other 
when we were children at Ridgeley was a 
mutual affair, but as to answering such a 
grave question as you ask, I prefer not to 
commit myself.” 

“Of course I know we are rather young 
to decide upon such an issue, but I am sure 
that I know myself— my mind is made up 
on my choice — and I am led to believe you 
will view the matter in the same light if 
you will be true to yourself.” 


34 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

“Let US wait and see what time will teach 
us, and if we find after a further waiting 
that we have not changed toward each other, 
then we can take the step you suggest.” 

“I would not have you commit yourself 
beyond what would be fair, and I have no 
right to ask you to make a promise that you 
may not be able to carry out.” , 

“We are young and we do not know what 
is in store for us.” 

“That is true, and all I ask of you is this: 
If you have a proposal later, and of course 
you will, will you promise me that you will 
consider me before you promise that other 
person?” 

“Yes, I will, and I see nothing wrong in 
looking at the matter that way.” 

“All I ask of you, Edna, is that you treat 
me fairly, and I am sure your own welfare 
should be considered at the same time, and 
knowing our feelings toward each other, I 
am content to wait for your judgment 
to mature. Life has its perplexities, its 
vicissitudes, its hopes, its trials and tempta- 
tions, and we must be honest with ourselves 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


35 


and sincere in all our dealings. I regard the 
question I asked you to be one of the most 
vital questions of life, and our future wel- 
fare depends largely upon its decision. I 
promise you my loyalty in thought, and I 
want to trust you for what you may be to 
me. I believe that we are intended for each 
other. I am willing to wait until you may 
see it in that way. Whenever the time 
comes, say to yourself: ‘Am I treating Her- 
bert right in this?’ or ‘What would Herbert 
think of this?’ This is all I ask— will you 
do it?” 

“Yes, I will promise all that,” she replied. 
“I will always be true to you, come what 
may,” she said with peculiar emphasis. 

I felt a great deal better after hearing 
those words. But how much better it would 
have been if I had always believed her as on 
this evening— if there had never entered my 
mind a particle of doubt as to her ability to 
keep her promise. 

“Edna, promise me that you will not tell 
your mother the latter part of our conversa- 
tion. I do not want anyone to know it but 


36 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

you and me until the proper time comes for 
us to make it public, and I trust that time is 
not far distant. 

“I gladly promise all you ask, Herbert, 
and I see nothing wrong in our loving each 
other.” 

“And I see nothing wrong in our keeping 
our love a secret.” > 

“Under present circumstances, perhaps it 
is better.” 

“Now remember, Edna, that whenever 
you are ready to decide to marry me, I 
have a home for you. I have a pretty place, 
and I think you would like it. You see, it 
is a practical matter with me, and I do not 
ask you such a grave question without pro- 
tecting you.” 

“You are better prepared than I thought.” 

“Yes, I have a home of my own, and I 
am ready to share it with you at any time.” 

After a while I told her that I intended to 
leave the city the next morning on an early 
train, and probably we would not meet again 
for a long time. 

“Some way I have a presentiment that 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


37 


something will happen before I see you 
again, Edna,” said I. 

“Oh, I hope not,” she said, with a smile; 
“nothing bad.” 

“Good-bye, my darling Edna. Won’t you 
give me one kiss before we part?” 

“I don’t think you ought to ask me to kiss 
you, Herbert.” 

“Why, Edna?” I replied. “Surely we love 
each other,” I argued. 

“Herbert, if I kiss you, you will be the 
first boy I ever kissed.” 

“And I am the only boy you love.” 

Gently she pressed her dear lips to mine, 
and in a lingering farewell they met for the 
first time. 

“Fare-thee-well, my darling.” 

“Farewell, Herbert, my love.” 

Just as I passed through the hall of the 
hotel going toward the office I met Mrs. 
Lancing. 

“Mr. Earle, were you leaving without 
telling me good-bye?” 

“Really, Mrs. Lancing, I beg your pardon, 
but it is growing late, and I feared you had 


38 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


retired; and I owe you an apology for keep- 
ing Edna up so long, but I am going to leave 
the city on the morning train, and I could 
hardly pull myself away. I am very glad to 
be able to see you to tell you good-bye. I 
have enjoyed meeting you both so much that 
it requires an effort to leave, though I must. 
It may, perhaps, be some time before we see 
each other again.” 

‘ ‘ I am very sorry to have you leave. Take 
my best wishes with you, Mr. Earle,” Mrs. 
Lancing said, and I was soon on the street. 


CHAPTER 3. 


Ashleigli Hall, I gladly greet thee, 

And the lovely Shenandoah, 

With its silvery sparkling waters 
Lapping gently on the shore. 

The next day I left Boston and returned 
to my home in Virginia, which is situated 
near the banks of the Shenandoah river. 
Perhaps to many readers in the Old Dominion 
a little description will suffice to remind them 
of beautiful Ashleigh Hall. 

About half a mile from the banks of the 
Shenandoah river is a knoll, which has the ap- 
pearance of a large Indian “mound,” and is 
reached by an avenue shaded on either side 
by maples. This knoll covers acres of smooth 
land, which gradually slopes on all sides. 
Near the center of this plateau stands an old 
mansion, known as Ashleigh Hall— large and 
roomy; and in front of this stands a foun- 
tain throwing out its crystal water. The 
lawn spreading out from the mansion is dot- 
ted with many beds of beautiful flowers, and 


40 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


is inclosed by an ornamental iron fence. A 
short distance from the dwelling is a spring 
of chalybeate water gushing from the sur- 
face of the ground. The thick grass, kept 
shaven by the lawnmower, makes a carpet 
like velvet. Upon the two sides of the Hall 
are situated the orchard and garden where 
an abundance of fruits and vegetables may 
be found in their season. 

Standing upon the front veranda one can 
see the Shenandoah river as it curves 
gracefully on, marked by the full-grown 
trees lending their shade to the banks. Far- 
ther on the river can be traced as a silver 
thread as it winds on and on around the hills 
and through the vales until your eyes rest 
upon the Blue Ridge mountains, which form 
the background. These mountains appear 
blue the year round as the changes of the 
seasons bring out the various tints, and they 
are undoubtedly the most beautiful range of 
mountains on the eastern coast. 

In the Springtime, when all the foliage of 
the season is fresh, this scene is the more 
beautiful: then it is a view admired by all 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 41 

who cast their eyes thither. Now everything 
is green, and the sweet perfume coming 
from the flower-garden adds a freshness to 
the atmosphere. Near the Hall is a large 
bush of honeysuckle which perfumes the air 
over the entire place. 

This Hall was formerly owned by a family 
named Ashleigh, who were very aristocratic, 
but on account of their extravagance and 
bad management the place had been 
allowed, without proper repairs, to go into 
decay. The family was considerably in debt, 
and, upon the death of the owner, it was 
offered for sale. It had once been a lovely 
home, though it had depreciated through 
neglect. I had the ready cash, and as I had 
wanted just such a place, I purchased it at a 
reasonable price. Soon after my purchase I 
had the Hall put through a thorough course 
of repairs and fitted up with all modem im- 
provements and conveniences. Now it is 
unquestionably one of the handsomest resi- 
dences in the Valley. This property has 
been my home for several years. 

The Hall being situated near the highway 


42 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


makes it convenient, and I frequently have 
visitors. I spend much of my time in my 
library perusing one or the other of numer- 
ous volumes of classic and scientific lore. 
But tonight— the night after my arrival— 
I am not reading, I am thinking. I am very 
well satisfied with this place for a home, but 
I am thinking of other places. One of the 
places which engages my thoughts is Boston. 
As I sit here in my cozy room surrounded 
with everything to make one enjoy the com- 
forts of life, my thoughts are where I last 
left my darling Edna. Strange, it seems to 
me, that Fate threw us together as I was on 
a business trip to Boston— she, whom I 
thought perhaps I would never see again, 
but who has been in my mind ever since the 
time we parted at the station at Ridgeley 
when she and her mother left for New York 
City. My thoughts are carried back to the 
happy times in the little village of Ridgeley. 

Childhood days are undoubtedly the hap- 
piest time of life. Little did we think as we 
chatted each evening, and anxiously looked 
forward for the next, that we would be 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


43 


separated for eight years. Not a care 
marred our pleasure. But the time came 
when we had to think of it— for childhood 
has its serious problems— and our separation 
was sad to both: but we were children and 
we could not allow ourselves to think of the 
great wide world. Neither could we think 
that eight years would intervene before we 
would meet again. Oh, tonight I am lonely! 
When I think what may happen before we 
meet again, it makes me sad and miserable. 
To think that we may not meet for another 
eight years— makes me ill to contemplate! 

I realize what is the matter now. My 
heart yearns for the presence of love. Oh, 
if Edna was only old enough to marry. I 
must not sit here thinking about her, for it 
is useless, and midnight is near. ^ I am sure 
it is time to go to sleep— and perhaps to 
dreamland. 

There is one bird— a night bird— in this 
Valley that fascinates me and compels me to 
listen to its song. I can listen for hours, too, 
although its music would not charm many. 
There is nothing very melodious about the 


44 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


whip-poor-will to the ordinary person, but to 
me its plaintive notes are charming. I fall 
asleep listening to its song. 

:}{ * ♦ * * * 

“I really think you are getting selfish,” 
said a young lady to me one day. “Why 
don’t you go about more?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I am sure,” I retunied, 
hoping to evade her next question. But she 
was not to be put off in that way as was 
indicated by her next remark: 

“I fear you are becoming a hermit, and I 
would dislike any such thing as that to befall 
you.” 

“I do not remain at home all the time— 
though my business there requires some 
attention. I ride out nearly every day, and 
I was at the party at Judge Williams’ last 
week, and I have an invitation to the ball 
in honor of Miss Warren’s marriage, and 
I wish to attend, so why should you think I 
am getting to be a hermit?” 

“This is my first sight of you for some 
time. You know I was ill and could not at- 
tend that party; but I hope you will not give 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


45 


up calling at our home. We are always de- 
lighted to see you.” 

“Thank you; but do not deem me selfish, 
for I have made very few social calls for 
quite a while.” 

“So I have noticed,” replied she, jestingly; 
“and that is where I have drawn my con- 
jectures.” 

. “Truly, I had intended calling to see you 
all before this, but business has claimed 
most of my time recently. I promise, how- 
ever, that I will call to see you again soon, 
and I trust you will not entertain a fear of 
my becoming a hermit.” 

“It is a wonder you do not get married, 
Mr. Earle; you must get lonely at Ashleigh 
Hall?” 

“Remember, Miss Sallie, this is leap year, 
and if you offer that for a proposal, then I 
may accept: so don’t back out now.” 

‘ ‘ Ha, ha ! Oh, I really beg your pardon — ” 

“Be calm, now, and do not insist upon 
offering explanations,” I replied, interrupt- 
ing her, for I saw she was trying to find 
some way of escape, and as I wanted to have 


46 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


some fun with her, I said: “Miss Sallie, you 
have proposed now, and the only thing left 
for me is to appear very innocent, and say 
you must give me time to think it over, as 
you have taken me so much by surprise.” 

“Oh, Mr. Earle; you should not have taken 
me up so quickly, for I assure you that you 
misunderstood me. I am not ready to thihk 
of getting married yet. I was thinking of 
so many young girls about here for whom 
you might set your cap.” 

“I wouldn’t back out, if I were you, Miss 
Sallie, after popping the question. You 
should be more careful what you say during 
leap year for you do not know who may 
chance to accept. But if you are not in 
earnest, I will allow you to release yourself, 
though it is contrary to my rule to release 
a proposal so soon.” 

‘ ‘ Thanks. Now I am at liberty to propose 
again,” she replied. “But, Mr. Earle, do 
you know that young gentleman who is visit- 
ing Mrs. Greay?” 

“No,” I replied; “I do not. I was not 
aware of such a visitor.” 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


47 


“His name is Mr. Summerston, and a 
very attractive young man.” 

“I may have heard of that name before.” 

“It is quite likely. He is real handsome, 
and I am thinking of setting my cap for him. ” 

“Oh, now I see your reason for wanting 
an immediate release. Please send me an 
invitation.” 

“Yes, certainly.” 

Shortly after this our conversation ended, 
and I mounted my horse and started for 
Ashleigh Hall. This conversation was held 
in one of the stores of Ridgeley. 

One year has passed since my trip to Bos- 
ton where I saw Edna Lancing. We have 
been regular correspondents. I enjoy her 
letters very much, and they are always 
lengthy and full of interest. She is still a 
school girl, and wants to graduate in her 
studies before she marries. She expects to 
pass through a course of musical training- 
after which she may marry. We are en- 
gaged, but her parents do not know of it. 
Edna said she and her mother were visiting 


48 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


Mrs. Summerston at Duskydale, Maryland. 
Her mother and Mrs. Summerston are very 
great friends, having been schoolmates, and 
Mrs. Summerston has a son whom she is 
anxious for Edna to marry. Edna’s mother 
does not know of our engagement, or per- 
haps she would not have told her this. Edna 
said her associations with Mr. Summerstbn 
could never terminate in love. Mrs. Lancing 
is very much attached to him, and wishes 
Edna to learn to love him. Edna told her 
mother that her love was already won, but 
she could not tell just now the name of the 
person. Her mother teased her about me, 
and said that if I was the one she referred to, 
she had better banish the thought, for she 
could not have known the meaning of love 
when we were children together at Ridgeley. 
Edna says she has another view. 


CHAPTER 4. 


Having been at Ashleigh Hall so long, I 
felt that I would enjoy a change of life and 
scene, so I went to Brunswick Hotel, situated 
in the suburbs of the old town of Waynes- 
boro. The lithia water there was recom- 
mended as being very fine, and my physician 
thought it would greatly benefit me. I in- 
tended remaining several weeks. 

Waynesboro is an old town and ranks high 
as a watering place. The lithia water has 
gained for the town a wide reputation, 
and during the Summer it presents a lively 
appearance. As nearly all towns in the 
Shenandoah Valley are attractive as summer 
resorts, Waynesboro does not fail to receive 
a large share of the city people. Richmond, 
especially, being in close proximity by means 
of the railroad, has quite an exodus for 
Waynesboro every season. They like the 
mountain scenery, the change of life from 
the noise and bustle of the city, the healthy 


50 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


location, the mineral water, and the pleas- 
ures that life affords in this village. 

The Brunswick is situated upon the prin- 
cipal thoroughfare from Waynesboro, and is 
most beautifully located upon a slight emi- 
nence which commands a fine view along the 
South branch of the Shenandoah river, and 
also the town to which it belongs, and yet 'it 
is so far out as to be delightfully quiet save 
from the games and caprices of its guests. 
The wide veranda surrounding the entire 
building is nicely shaded— and here one may 
sit upon a reclining chair and inhale the 
balmy air that floats about in gentle zephyrs 
laden with the invigorating mountain tonic 
for his physical being while the pleasure 
groups of the guests attract his fancy. Ad- 
joining the hotel is a magnificent Park, large 
and shaded, and a delightful time may be 
had wandering over it, or in chatting upon 
one of the many benches under the shade 
trees where in the evening quite a number 
of groups may be seen dotted about. In 
this park is a lake with the bottom entirely 
covered with numerous bubbling springs. A 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


51 


small island in this lake may be reached by 
a bridge, and when you get upon the island 
you find a bench where you can have your 
partner for an isolated chat and not be 
molested by eavesdropping. This “lovers’ 
retreat” has been aptly applied to the little 
island. 

I had been at the Brunswick about a week 
when one day I was surprised to see one of 
my old friends. I had not dreamed such a 
thing possible, but sure enough here was no 
other than Edna Lancing. What brought 
her here? In her last letter she wrote that 
she was considering a visit to Virginia in a 
short time— New York was so dreadfully hot 
she and her mother were compelled to leave 
for the country. Mrs. Lancing desired to 
visit Virginia as it had been nearly ten years 
since she was here. Edna came to the hotel 
alone; her mother stopped down the Valley, 
intending to join her later. Almost every 
evening Edna and I wandered to the little 
island situated in the lake in the Park. She 
would take her violin, and we had the best 
time imaginable. That violin held for us 


52 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


both a charm that we could never under- 
stand. It sent out soft strains of music 
that were truly enchanting. Edna has ac- 
quired a great deal of skill in plying the bow 
to her violin, and together with her talent 
for music, she is master of the instrument. 
Often I would sit and listen to those strains 
and imagine I was in a dream— the most 
pleasant of dreams— and be carried into the 
realms of Fairyland and think it was a fairy 
playing the violin— it was so different from 
the ordinary music. Suchmusings! I some- 
times questioned my earthly existence, and 
only realized it when the bow ceased. Edna 
would ask me how I liked her selection. At 
first I could not speak— I had to control my 
thoughts. Edna was never, I believe, more 
happy than with her violin, and I was never 
more happy than when with Edna. Most 
of the guests recognized us as the specially 
privileged ones to the little island, and con- 
ceded to us exclusive right, so that we 
might expect to find the place deserted 
most any time we wished to visit it. 

At the hotel, various games and amuse- 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


53 


ments were indulged in to make the guests 
enjoy themselves. Sometimes we would 
take part in the games, and other times we 
would sit upon the veranda and chat. 

One of the most novel amusements was a 
Tacky Party. It began with the ridiculous, 
and ended with a regular Old Virginia break- 
down dance. Round, square, and fancy jig 
dances were intermixed until it would be 
hard to think of anything that had been 
omitted from the collection. 

It was the last of August. The Phantom 
Ball was in progress at the Pavilion, which 
is situated in the Park. Its prediction was 
that of a howling success, and I think it was 
realized. At nine o’clock the large pavilion 
presented a rather ghostly appearance as the 
march, led by two of the town boys, appeared 
at the grand opening. The participants 
were draped in sheets closely wrapped about 
their forms, while long white masks and 
high white caps adorned their heads and 
faces. Perfect silence reigned supreme— 
not a sound could be heard as these ghostly 
forms flitted about. The dim lights shining 


54 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


from the chandeliers added to the scene and 
one could almost imagine he was in the city 
of the ghosts of the dead as these spectres 
darted about as if by magic. After prom- 
enading, the ghosts danced— round, square, 
and quadrilles. At eleven o’clock, at the tap 
of the bell, the scene suddenly changed. The 
dancers were brought to a halt; the room 
was brilliantly lighted; masks and drapery 
were discarded; and, with Arabian-Nights’- 
like magic, they stood before their partners 
revealed in their true colors. Underneath 
the sheets were concealed ball costumes 
gorgeous to behold— the gentlemen in full 
evening dress. 

I am informed that the proprietors of the 
hotel have repeatedly told the young men of 
the town that they want them to feel at 
home here. Considerable money has been 
spent to beautify this portion of the town. 
There are four young men from the town 
who make good use of their time here. All 
the guests know to whom I allude, so I will 
not mention their names. They do not take 
part in anything except what will assist 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


55 


their flirtations. There are, likewise, four 
young women of the hotel who are just as 
badly captivated as the aforesaid young 
men. When their presence is desired to 
facilitate the games and amusements of the 
hotel', they can only be found in the Park, 
in some secluded nook, where their flirta- 
tions may be conducted. One time the pro- 
prietors tried to get up a quadrille, but the 
games going on at the hotel interfered, and 
these four young men were asked to join. 
They refused, and this kept out eight per- 
sons, as their partners were included. I con- 
sidered this a selfish act— a Summer’s pas- 
time. Yes, and the days will soon be gone 
—perhaps forgotten. 

When Mrs. Lancing came to the hotel my 
presence there was a great surprise to her. 
She had not expected to see me during her 
trip, though she would pass not far from my 
home. I told her I had been taking care of 
Edna for her, and could guarantee the best of 
attention. To this she laughed heartily, and 
said there was not the slightest doubt of it. 

Mrs. Lancing and Edna decided to remain 


56 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


at the Brunswick a month: so what could I 
do but stay with them. I was not averse to 
it, and in fact congratulated myself upon 
my good fortune. Edna and I have been 
correspondents since we parted in Boston, 
now more than a year ago, but Mrs. Lancing 
does not know it. We thought it better not 
to tell her; had she known it, very probably 
she would have thought my meeting Edna 
here was prearranged. I have been enjoy- 
ing myself as well as a young man can since 
I came. I do not take part in every game 
at the hotel, but can be relied upon when my 
services are needed. Generally Edna and I 
could be found upon the little island in the 
Park, where we dreamed and mused and 
chatted until I began to think we were los- 
ing ourselves in forgetfulness of our duty to 
mankind. Still, it is human nature for a 
couple to enjoy each other’s society— and why 
not we? We had already begun to count 
the days we would have together, and while 
their end was inevitable, it made me sad to 
think of it. While on the island listening 
to the soft music of Edna’s violin, I was so 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


57 


content that I told Edna she seemed a Fairy- 
playing for me. The music -was a soft and 
s-weet melody— and not loud enough to draw 
a crowd of spectators. We were selfish, I 
know; but who would not be? I could not 
bring myself to think that anyone else had a 
part in our little world of love, and I felt 
that if anyone appeared to claim a right I 
should consider him an intruder. 

One of our special friends selected from 
among the guests was a Mrs. Dameron, from 
Maryland, who did many things to assist us 
in our courtship. The services were seem- 
ingly brought about in a careless manner 
to her, and while they could readily pass 
the most careful criticism upon the part of 
the fellow guests, every and each were quite 
apparent to us. Few persons are endowed 
with the faculty of providing or contributing 
to the pleasures of others— at least it ap- 
pears so. The kindness rendered by her 
cannot be effaced from my memory, and as 
long as I live I shall ever hold her in the 
most loyal esteem. 

Those who come to the hotel evidently 


58 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


want to have a good time, and Mrs. Lancing 
seemed pleased that Edna and I enjoyed our 
little strolls or a quiet tete-d-tMe; and if she 
objected on account of desiring Edna to marry 
Mr. Summerston we could not detect it. 

Edna said she would leave next month 
for London, England, where she intended 
studying music. She had a good talent for 
music and it ought to be cultivated, but I 
did not like thinking she would be in London 
so long— until June. I felt faint when I 
thought of it. 

Mrs. Lancing and Edna left the hotel, and 
I felt deserted— felt that I was alone in the 
world. I had already remained longer than 
I intended. I left at once. 


CHAPTER 5. 


Time passes on. It has been nearly two 
years since I saw my sweetheart. She is 
now in London studying music. This is her 
second year abroad, and she is very enthusi- 
astic over her studies. Prof. Lattini has 
been teaching her. In her last letter she 
wrote: “I have learned to play the violin 
very well. Prof. Lattini says I will make a 
good pupil. I wish you could see me with 
my violin. Oh, Herbert, how you used to 
admire my playing, but you should hear Prof. 
Lattini’s violin— it fascinates me so I can sit 
and hear him all day long, I wish you could 
hear him— it is perfectly charming. I some- 
times fear I am being hypnotised by this 
violinist— such piping strains as he pours 
forth. He is an Italian, and I like those 
soft, wooing airs best of all. I think the 
Italian music is the sweetest music we have. 
I will be here until June, then I will come 


60 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

back home. How I long to see you.” Thus 
her letter ran, and closed by saying, “My 
heart yearns for you continually, and I shall 
never rest until I am with you.” 

I grow impatient for the time when Edna 
will have finished her studies; then she will 
be ready to get married. She is not yet 
twenty years old, and expects to complete 
her music before she becomes of age. 

For Fate, with stern and cruel hands, 

Had marked the paths for each to go. 

Across Life’s dreary, burning sands. 

It has been more than a month since I 
received the last letter from Edna. She is 
still in London studying music, but I did not 
think she would be so much occupied with 
her studies that she could not find time to 
write me a few lines. What does it mean? 

One morning in looking over my mail I 
received the following letter from Mrs. 
Lancing. I cannot describe my feelings as 
I perused its contents. I have the letter 
still, and here is what it said: 

New York City, March — , 18— 

Mr. Earle:— I am sorry to have to say to 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


61 


you that the correspondence between Edna 
and yourself must stop. Though you have 
been a friend of our family for years, and I 
have always had a high regard for you, yet 
I do not wish Edna to marry you. I have 
told her this, and I expect perfect obedience 
on her part. In the first place, she is en- 
tirely too young to think of love or marriage. 
I do not approve of people marrying so 
young, and when she becomes older I have 
a young man in view whom I wish her to 
marry. I know you are a gentleman and 
will not presume to go against my wishes. 

Your friend, Mrs. Lancing. 

I cannot understand why Mrs. Lancing 
wants to interfere when she knows Edna 
loves me— she must know, or she would not 
have written to me thus. What am I to do? 
I must not write to her when her mother 
has forbidden. It will never do to cause her 
to lose confidence in me, and yet, must I not 
sacrifice all for the one I love? No, I am 
too hasty! Not all! There are other things 
one must consider along with love. But I 
read just the other day, “All things come to 
those who wait.” I am perfectly willing to 


62 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

wait a while, but it is hard to do. Job, we 
are told, was a very patient man; but why 
should he be set up as a model for us? Job 
was placing his confidence in God, and it is 
difficult for one mortal to inspire such com- 
plete confidence in another mortal. “Shall 
mortal man be more just than God.” 

Ah, here is a letter from Edna. I eagerly 
opened it. It ran: 

London, Eng., March 2, 18 — . 

Dear Herbert:— Mama has positively for- 
bidden our correspondence, and I must obey 
her. Yet, oh! my darling, I love you and 
will ever be true. She cannot force me to 
marry another, for I mil not! How she has 
found this out is more than I can tell. Some- 
one who cannot be our friend must have 
told her, though I do not know how that 
person could know. She has selected Mr. 
Summerston for me and wants me to marry 
him because she and his mother were school- 
mates and old friends. I do not love him, 
and cannot. Do not despair, I will be faith- 
ful to the end. Believe me true and loving, 
but miserable, Edna. 

This letter is very brief, but I am glad to 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


63 


get it. She promises to be true to the end. 
What does this mean? Perhaps we may 
never meet again, so why should we thus 
continue to live in hopes when we will be 
separated from each other. Love claims its 
own, and who could have a better right? I 
am sure Mrs. Lancing will not allow Edna 
to see me if she can prevent it in order that 
she may marry her to Mr. Summerston, I 
will go to see Ary Arlington, and if she 
corresponds with Edna, perhaps she can tell 
me more about this affair. 

The next day found me at Mrs. Arling- 
ton’s residence in Ridgeley. Ary was at 
home, and alone. 

Although at one time Ary and I were not 
on the best terms because of the feeling of 
jealousy entertained when Edna was her 
guest many years ago, that feeling, which 
was only temporary, has long since blown 
over, and we have become good friends. 
Ary is not a stranger to the relations of Edna 
and me, and several times we have talked of 
our little courtship. She is somewhat of a 
confidant, and I am glad to confide in her. 


64 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


Only a woman can understand another 
woman, and in the circumstances concerning 
us I was endeavoring to secure the advice 
of Ary to know just how to proceed. We 
were alone. After relating the position 
Mrs. Lancing was taking, Ary remarked: 

“I can’t imagine who could have told 
Mrs. Lancing about it unless it was .Mr. 
Summerston.” 

"Who is Mr, Maurice Summerston?” I 
inquired, for I wanted to know more about 
this young man. "I have heard of that 
name before, and Edna said in her letter 
that her mother had selected him for her 
son-in-law.” 

"I have seen him several times. He is a 
relative of Mrs. Greay. I called there last 
Summer and met him. He talked to me 
about Edna. 

"Then he is acquainted with her?” said I, 
interrupting her. 

"Yes, he knows her very well,” she re- 
plied. Their mothers are quite old friends, 
he told me— so I am afraid it is the outcome 
of the mothers.” 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


65 


“Edna told me her mother was anxious 
for the marriage.” 

“You remember when I was at Mrs. 
Greay’s last Summer, you came riding by 
one day?” 

“Yes, I remember, and I saw a gentleman 
with you in the yard. Was that Mr. Sum- 
merston?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ary, I want you to tell me what he said 
about Edna?” I asked. “I suppose you will 
not object to telling your old friend, especially 
when it concerns him so vitally?” 

“No; I will tell you. He left me under 
the impression from the way he talked at 
times that they were engaged. I remarked 
that he had a rival in you, but he said he 
was sure of his game, and it would be 
useless in anyone to attempt to cut him out, 
as she would soon be his wife.” 

“Ary, I fear you made a mistake when 
you mentioned my name to him in that con- 
nection.” 

“Perhaps I did. I never thought there 
could come any harm from it for I sup^josed 


66 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


he already knew that you knew her. I hope 
I did not cause the trouble, and I regret very 
much that I should have done the least thing 
to interfere with your happiness. I would 
not have said what I did but for the reason 
that I did not like his egotism,” said she, 
evidently much hurt over the knowledge 
just gained. 

“Of course, you did not mean to do us 
any harm, but he may have used it with 
Mrs. Lancing.” 

“Herbert, I am really sorry for it, and I 
promise that I will do whatever I possibly 
can to get you two together.” 

“I hope you have not done us any harm, 
but anything you can do for us will be re- 
ceived with the most profound good grace, 
believe me.” 

“As a drowning man catches at a straw, 
perhaps he may have used what I said to 
help his side of the case.” 

“Ary, I am afraid Mr. Summerston’s talk- 
ing to you about Edna was not altogether 
proper, for in what way could he think you 
would be interested?” 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


67 


“None that I can see; and I must confess 
that I did not think it proper at the time.” 

“You and I have been friends a long time, 
haven’t we?” 

“Why, yes; and I hope we are still. I 
had no intention of doing you any harm.” 

“lam glad you told me this: but I don’t 
know what to think of Mrs. Lancing trying 
to marry Edna in this way. It may take 
place without my knowledge. Don’t you 
think Edna should write to me?” 

“Perhaps she cannot help it.” 

“ Her mother is the cause of this. Mothers 
are hard people to deal with sometimes.” 

“When I was at Mrs. Greay’s,” said Ary, 
“Mr. Summerston said Mrs. Lancing and 
Edna were expected to visit them again, and 
he must be there when they arrive. He also 
said it is probable they would be married 
sometime this Fall.” 

“Ary, if Edna is a true girl, she will not 
permit this marriage to come off— she will 
devise some means of escape— and I cannot 
understand how she can allow herself to be 
placed in a false position. You know I love 


68 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


Edna, and have admired her integrity, but 
we are forbidden to correspond and I don’t 
know what to do. I want to know what is 
my position in the matter.” 

“Herbert, I am your friend.” 

“Oh, how glad I am to know that I have 
a friend— yes, one,” said I, interrupting her, 
for she was measuring her words thought- 
fully. 

“lam your friend, and I will do all I can 
to investigate and help you. I do not un- 
derstand it. Mrs. Lancing should not act 
this way— I don’t think it is right.” 

“I thank you very much for any interposi- 
tion, and I trust a way may be open to us. 
It is now growing late, and I must leave. I 
do not understand how Edna can acquiesce 
in the matter— and this puzzles me.” 

‘ ‘ Still, I don’t believe Edna is false to you. ” 

“We will wait and see. Things appear 
somewhat suspicious.” 

I was soon on my way to Ashleigh Hall, 
a miserable and disappointed man. 

4: * * * 

One morning as I was looking over my 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


69 


morning papers my eyes were arrested by a 
small paragraph which made me dizzy and 
held me for a while spellbound. It was not 
exactly a surprise— nor had I expected it— 
but it completely puzzled me. I read it and 
reread it. Yes, there it was in glaring type: 

Invitations are out for the marriage of Miss 
Edna Lancing, daughter of Mr. D. Z. Lan- 
cing, of New York City, to Mr. Maurice 
Summerston,of this place . — DusJcy dale Press. 

What can this mean? Yes, she is going 
to marry him! I feared it would come to 
this! I have hoped and prayed it would be 
diiferent — ^but hope was vain. Oh, Edna, 
this is too hard to bear! To believe you 
utterly false, my darling, is to me more bit- 
ter than death! False? Oh, heaven, can it 
be! There must be some mistake. Can 
those clear blue eyes— with the light of in- 
nocence and truth shining in them, the em- 
bodiment of a true woman’s soul, which 
looked with love to me— be false? Heaven 
forbid! You have been forced to do this— 
I cannot believe it is of your own volition. 
Oh, that I could see you, but I dare not 
venture. Oh, that I could talk with you. 


70 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

and hear from your own dear lips the real 
cause of this silence— to hear that you no 
longer love me, and go my way through life 
alone and uncared for. 

‘ ‘ Perchance if we had never met, 

I had been spared this vain regret, 

This endless striving to forget. 

And yet * ” 

Oh, how can I forget? I am miserable, 
indeed. Edna, darling Edna, how could 
you treat me thus? You said you would be 
true to the end. I recall vividly the state- 
ment you made me, that you would be true 
to me, come what will. Is this the way for 
you to treat me? I cannot allow myself to 
face the world knowing that I have been 
disappointed in love; no, I will be a retired 
lover— living here in my library. I have a 
large library of well-selected books, and I 
will spend my life in study. Here in my 
library I can select what company suits me 
best: and should I take into my presence an 
undesirable guest I can readily dismiss him 
at will, so I think I shall be surrounded by 
more congenial companions in my books than 
would be likely if I associate with the world. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


71 


Sir William Waller says, “In my study I 
am sure to converse with none but wise men, 
but abroad it is impossible to avoid the 
society of fools.” 

When I purchased this place I secured the 
large library of the Ashleighs, and it em- 
braced a great many of the classics, and 
some very ancient manuscripts. Since then 
I have added many modem books, making 
it very complete. 

I have every comfort wished for in a home, 
so why should I desire to be with the giddy 
and gay world? I am here miserable in my 
loneliness, but I shall prefer it to mingling 
with the world. This leaves me a single 
man, and such will I remain. 

****** 

One year has passed since I learned that 
Edna and Mr. Summerston were to be mar- 
ried. I have spent a lone weary year in my 
home— shutting myself up from the world. 
One year ago I was well and strong— I had 
color in my cheeks, joy in my heart, and life 
was a pleasure, with strong hopes of the 
future. But, alas! Time is the heralder of 


72 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


our fate. Oh, the startling change of one 
year! It seems an age since I resolved to be 
a hermit. What change has been wrought 
in one year— my strength has left me, and I 
am weak and sad at heart; I care for no one, 
preferring to read, read, and read, all day 
long. This sad, monotonous life is leaving its 
mark. I myself am getting tired of it, and 
I long for a change. Can I endure it longer? 
Life is a burden to me, and one that I would 
fain lay aside— and why? What has hap- 
pened? I have lost my love! A love was 
never greater than mine. What can I do? 
The only girl I ever loved has left me, and is 
wed to another! The idol of my heart wed 
to another man! Can anything be worse 
than for a man to be disappointed in the 
love of his life? And can anything be worse 
than the prospect of a lonely, forlorn life, a 
melancholy existence, with no hope for the 
future— only a vague despondency as the 
goal of one at my age. Youth is naturally 
hopeful. I have youth without hope. Such 
a prospect! It makes me sick at heart when 
I think of it; and yet, I cannot banish the 



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AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


73 


thought from my mind if I would. Edna 
Lancing appears to me in my day-dreams 
and at night. She is constantly arising be- 
fore me, and haunts me when I am sad. I 
see her pleading manner before me, yet she 
wears an expression radiant with hope. I 
wish I had never seen her! Oh, Edna, my 
sweetheart, my life’s happiness, how could 
you be so cruel — you, whom I loved once 
better than life itself, and all I cared for in 
this world — how could you desert me? If it 
is your spirit that visits me, why do you 
come? Is it your spirit, or is it a figment of 
my brain? Was it that I loved you so much 
that imposes this torture upon me— and is it 
right to love as I have loved you? The more 
one loves the greater will be the sorrow. 
Perhaps everyone feels that he has loved 
more ardently than another has — that he 
fancies he has loved as no other can: when 
in reality we may all be alike. When in the 
presence of Edna there was a secure confi- 
dence, an irresistible power wielded over me, 
and the fascination was so complete and 
satisfying that the novelty of the situation 


74 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


was a miracle, and I cannot believe that 
everyone experiences the same depths of 
love. That love was as sacred to me as a 
marriage, and I shall remain true to my first 
love. Could it have been the same with 
Edna — and if so, was it right for her to 
marry another? What can be the meaning 
of this violation of the most sacred heritage 
of man— the discernment of a choice which 
distinguishes us from brutes; an attachment 
which appeals to our intelligence instead of 
the mere animal instincts; the consecrated 
principle which is essential to chastity and 
conjugal fidelity. Shall I ever be able to 
understand how one can abuse this sacred 
impulse? God holds these secrets from us, 
as the secrets of our existence — ^life and 
death— but controls us with his laws, and 
though the means of compliance with 
Nature’s laws lie with man— shall he dis- 
obey them! Is it right to violate the crown- 
ing principle of man! No one can wilfully 
violate Nature’s laws and escape the penalty. 
Must I share the penalty of unhappiness 
imposed by the act of another? 


CHAPTER 6. 


As the earth when leaves are dead, 

As the night when sleep is sped, 

As the heart when joy is fled, 

I am left alone — alone. — Shelby. 

A cold, dreary day in the early part of 
November. Everything is as dead as death 
itself. I sit here at my library window and 
look out. I have been reading all day, and 
now am watching the fading twilight. The 
day has been cold, and the fire bums and 
flickers in the grate. The day is fast pass- 
ing away: the skies have already begun to 
grow dark; and it will soon be night, A 
slight rain or mist has been falling, and the 
mournful air with a feeling of dreariness 
pervades everywhere. As I sit here and 
look out, and cast my thoughts into this 
gloomy weather, that beautiful poem of 
Longfellow’s, “The Rainy Day,” seems to 
fill my mind. It seems so true today. Long- 
fellow has my thoughts expressed exactly, 
and it was no doubt written upon just such 


76 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


a day at his old home in Portland. “The 
day is cold, and dark, and dreary.’' When 
he says, “My life is cold, and dark, and 
dreary,” it so aptly applies to me. “My 
thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past.” 
How true that is of me! My prospects have 
been blasted, and before this cloud came 
over me I prospered; but oh, the change! 
To think what is in store for me with blasted 
hopes ! Today seems an uncommon day after 
all; it is cold, and dark, and dreary, it is 
true, but I feel encouraged in some way I 
do not understand. A comfortable abode 
and plenty does not necessarily make one 
happy: if it did I would be happy now. 
One requires other than food and raiment. 
No one knows how I have suffered these few 
months here in this place. “Be still, sad 
heart! and cease repining; behind the clouds 
is the sun still shining,” comes to me in a 
most impressive way. “Into each life some 
rain must fall.” Is not that rain falling, 
and has been falling for some time! How 
strange this all seems— what mystery there 
is in life! Life is certainly not sweet if all 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


77 


is like mine— my life is bitter. What feel- 
ing there is in the poetical lines— and oh, 
yet how sad! To think of the time when I 
was at Ridgeley with Edna— how happy we 
were. Little did we think of our separation. 
Nothing pleased me more than to be in the 
company of the young girls. Now, I do not 
care for their society. What a change! “Thy 
fate is the common fate of all.” If this is 
the common fate of all, I ought to bear it 
without complaint; but I know of no one 
whose fate is as mine. Here I am shut up, 
and never go anywhere; no one comes to 
see me, and I do not care to see any of my 
friends— all I care for is to be alone, and 
read. While I have kept myself confined, I 
have taken up some deep reading and study- 
ing, endeavoring to drown my sorrow, but 
I have not succeeded in banishing Edna 
Lancing, and she comes to me in thought 
and dream. What must I do? She appears 
to me with those same hopeful eyes. Will I 
ever be able to banish her? A solitary life 
will not bring happiness. Will I ever be 
happy again? Oh, for the prospect of a 


78 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

change! My heart craves something I can 
not get— love. I want to love and be loved; 
yet, have I not loved as any mortal man can 
love? Perhaps I loved too much. Oh, Edna, 
you know that I loved you with heart and 
soul. No, I don’t believe one can love too 
much: it was not that I loved too much, 
but Fate. 

:tc ^ 

And what is friendship but a name, 

A charm that lulls to sleep, 

A shade that follows wealth or fame. 

But leaves the wretch to weep. — Goldsmith. 

What are friends? Have I any friends? 
Who is benefited by friendship? My best 
friend, Edna, has forsaken me. I loved her 
and will never love another. I am satisfied 
that she once loved me, if she was ever 
capable of loving a man, and I believed she 
would be true. But even she has forsaken 
me. Her mother separated us and blighted 
the prospects of our happiness. Perhaps I 
should not say “our,” for Edna may be 
happy now as the wife of Mr. Summerston — 
but my life is wrecked — ^my prospects of 
happiness all gone. I care for no one, yet 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


79 


am not satisfied alone. I have no visitors — 
have not had any for several months, and 
being so gloomy and reserved no one wants 
to see me. I am not interested in the con- 
versation of others. My interest in man- 
kind has depreciated considerably, and why? 

My thoughts again wander and dwell 
upon that beautiful poem of Longfellow’s: 

“Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; 

Behind the clouds is the sun still shining.” 

If that is true, why not with me — oh, if I 
could see it as he describes it! 

Silence ! 

Here comes a buggy up the driveway — 
they must be coming here, or they would 
have left the avenue at the river. Yes, and 
they are at the gate. I will tap the bell. 

“Joe, go and see who that is at the gate. 
What in the world could they want at such 
a place as this? Surely they have lost their 
way: go and direct them,” said I to my 
manservant, and he immediately left the 
room. 

Joe is at the gate talking to the occupants. 
What does this mean? They are getting out 


80 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

of the vehicle— two women— and they are 
coming with Joe, and he is leading them to 
the house, but I cannot recognize them in 
the gloaming. I am watching for their 
faces at the library door; no, they have gone 
to the drawing-room. 

“Who are they, Joe?” I asked, as he came 
to my door. “What do they want here?” I 
asked in alarm, for it is several months since 
I have seen a buggy come up this driveway. 

“They are Mrs. Arlington and daughter, 
from Ridgeley, and asked to see you.” 

I was greatly surprised to learn that they 
had come to see me. I brought them into 
my library— the air was chilly, and this room 
was warm. 

“Ary and I were on our way to Mr. 
Butler’s,” said Mrs. Arlington, “and as the 
night is upon us, and being so near your 
place, we thought we would like to spend 
the night here if you don’t object to visitors. ” 

“You are both perfectly welcome to stay 
here as long as you wish, and I assure you 
that you shall be well cared for.” 

Shortly after their arrival supper was 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


81 


served. They appeared to enjoy themselves, 
and I felt much better for their company. 

“Herbert,” said Mrs. Arlington, after we 
were again seated in the library, “I heard 
that you stay here in your room all the time, 
and no one comes to see you. Is this true?” 

“Yes, Mrs. Arlington, it is true. You and 
Ary are the only visitors I have had in the 
last three months, and I have seen no one, as 
I never leave the house. I have a competent 
man to look after the outside work, and I am 
endeavoring to take life easy.” 

“You will go somewhere after I tell you 
the good news I have for you,” said Ary. 

I paid more attention to the manner in 
which Ary spoke than to her words. She is a 
good conversationalist, and I enjoy her com- 
pany, but I had not the slightest idea of 
what was in store for me. 

“Yes, Herbert, she has good news; and I 
hope you will be interested. 

“I am glad we came here this evening, for 
I intended coming here purposely to tell you. ” 

“Well, Ary, what is that good news you 
have for me?” I asked. 


82 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

“It is about Edna Lancing,” she replied, 
with a smile. 

“About Edna Lancing?” I repeated, in 
astonishment. 

“Yes, about her. I am now prepared to 
answer all your questions concerning Edna. 
I saw her at the springs this Summer, and she 
asked about you. I wanted to see you sooner, 
but it seems you don’t come to Ridgeley.” 

“I don’t know that I want to hear any- 
thing about her!” I said; and they looked at 
me in amazement, for they evidently thought 
I still loved her. “Mrs. Arlington,” I con- 
tinued, “you know, of course, that Edna 
and I were once good friends— nay, more 
than friends— and you know, too, that this is 
a delicate subject to mention — with me, es- 
pecially.” 

“Yes, Herbert, I realize that, and I think 
I have a right to talk with you, for I am not 
a stranger to the circumstances, and Ary and 
I have only your own interest at heart, so I 
hope you will listen to what we have to tell 
you,” said Mrs. Arlington, very persuasively. 

“You still love Edna, Herbert?” asked Ary. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


83 


I did not answer. Mrs. Arlington smiled, 
and then said, “Don’t let my presence em- 
barrass you.” 

“I once loved Edna Lancing better than 
life itself,” I said, after a moment’s hesita- 
tion; “I loved her fervently. I believe I 
have ceased to love her now— and I could 
almost say that I hate her, for she has 
wrecked my life. I wish I had never seen 
her.” 

“Why, Herbert Earle! I had expected to 
bring you glad tidings,” said Ary. 

“Yes, ‘glad tidings of great joy’,” said I, 
completing the quotation for her. “Edna 
Lancing and Mr. Summerston were married 
nearly a year ago, and I have tried to erase 
her from my mind.” 

“Married! No, indeed; she is not mar- 
ried, and never will be unless she marries 
you!” continued Ary, quite emphatically. 

“What! not married!” I reiterated, in 
astonishment. “Unless she marries me? 
What do you mean— the last thing I should 
expect in this world.” 

This brought an expression of bewilder- 


84 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


ment to the faces of both women, and I 
quietly went to my desk and brought forth 
the paper containing the announcement of 
the marriage of Edna and Mr. Summerston, 
which I placed in the hands of Mrs. Arling- 
ton, pointing to the paragraph, and asked 
her to read it. I had preserved this paper 
in my desk, but why I could not say. Mrs. 
Arlington read the notice aloud, and then 
passed it to Ary, who also read it. 

“No, Herbert, you have been misled,” Ary 
exclaimed, as she finished reading the notice. 
“Edna is the same true friend to you she 
ever was, and Mr. Maurice Summerston had 
that published for effect. -No marriage has 
been brought about yet. Edna loves you 
still.” 

“Mrs. Arlington, I have been very critical 
in my opinion regarding the affection of the 
two sexes— and there is a difference. I once 
loved Edna, and loved her dearly; I dreamed 
dreams of happiness for us; I built castles 
in my imagination one after another— but 
they have all tumbled down, and great was 
the fall thereof. Girls, as a rule, do not 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


85 


love. They are too much engrossed with the 
pleasures of life and its frivolities to tie 
themselves with the marriage bond. , They 
are not sincere, and as they refer to mar- 
riage in a light vein, so also is their capacity 
of affection for men. They want to appear 
well and have a good time, with a group of 
admirers about them— men who will spend 
money on them and show them attention— 
and to this extent they admire the men: 
probably a few, if they deemed it likely they 
were doomed to be old maids, would accept 
almost anyone, for they have a horror of be- 
coming old maids, notwithstanding their 
assertions. You know the world frowns 
upon what it calls unrequited love. This is 
the ruse they present to us. As I said, they 
are not sincere— and they are all alike, with 
now and then an exception, and I did think 
Edna was an exception. I regret that I have 
to censure your sex in this way, and the rule 
of present company coming under the excep- 
tion holds good here. Girls never realize 
the weight of obligations— in this, I am 
sure you, Mrs. Arlington, will bear me out— 


86 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

till they are married. I said I thought Edna 
was one of the exceptions, but I have had 
to change my mind since then.” 

“Herbert, you have contracted very un- 
complimentary views of the womenfolk since 
you have resolved upon single blessedness,” 
said Ary. “I beg to assure you, however, 
that you are to some extent in error— though 
I will not discuss this at this time, but per- 
mit me to say you are in error regarding 
Edna, and you wrong her when you speak 
of her like that. I know that Edna is a true 
girl, and Mr. Summerston is not the man he 
ought to be. We have both been misled by 
the deception. I firmly believe that you will 
find out that I am telling you the truth, and 
I simply ask that you investigate— do this in 
justice to both.” 

I leaned back in my chair, and for a few 
minutes' was deeply absorbed in thought. 
Can it be possible that I was so basely de- 
ceived— that I was wrong all the time? 

“I want to tell you all about it,” inter- 
posed Ary, rousing me from my reverie. ‘ ‘ I 
was with her not long ago, and we talked 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


87 


the matter over. You remember that I told 
you I was your friend— and I meant it— and 
I want to show you my proof. I did not 
approve of the manner in which Mr. Maurice 
Summerston was conducting his suit. While 
at the springs, after I learned that Edna was 
expected, I made it my business not to leave 
without seeing her about you. I heard that 
you were developing into a hermit, though 
I never hinted that you loved her any the 
less, and I advise you to never let her think it. 
Herbert, how you have changed; but it was 
not your fault. Edna thinks you are still as 
of yore, for she does not know that you have 
changed in any way toward her, although I 
told her you had given her up as lost, for 
you had heard of her being engaged to Mr. 
Summerston. She denied this positively, 
saying she had refused him.” 

“But it was reported they were to be 
married, as that paper has it. It is strange 
they would publish such a thing if untrue.” 

“This Mr. Summerston is very jealous of 
you, and he told this in order that it might 
cause you to let her alone, so he could win 


88 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


her. That was the way it got out. But I 
assure you she is not to be won that way. 
Edna is not changed toward you— and I ad- 
mire her sincerity. Her mother was, and is 
now, partial to Mr. Summerston, because 
she and his mother were old friends in their 
school days.” 

“It seems,” interposed Mrs. Arlington, 
“that a pact was made by the mothers when 
their children were quite small, and they 
have tried to make the match for them.” 

“So you can understand the position Mrs. 
Lancing takes,” resumed Ary, “and perhaps 
be charitable. He is the man Edna wrote 
you about, but she is as good as her word, 
and she loves you just the same.” 

< “Hurrah for Edna!” I exclaimed, after a 
little reflection. “Ary, this whole thing has 
been a mystery to me, but I see it in a new 
light. As I said, Edna has always been to 
me a true girl, and I would never have 
doubted her if it had not been for the an- 
nouncement in that paper. Of course, Mrs. 
Lancing was instrumental in separating us.” 

“Edna only goes with him for the sake of 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


89 


her mother, but he knows she does not love 
him, and this arouses his jealousy,” con- 
tinued Ary. 

“Is it possible that I have not been fair in 
my judgment of Edna? I am truly sorry, 
and if possible I will make amends.” 

“You were not to blame,” interposed Mrs. 
Arlington, “I do not think people are held 
accountable for the things over which they 
have no control. It is very unfortunate for 
you both, and I deeply sympathize with you. ” 

“I have certainly suffered on account of 
it,” I admitted. 

“I know it is hard,” said Ary; “but I hope 
you will make this up all right.” 

“Yes, Ary, I am very glad you have told 
me what you have, and (rising and extend- 
ing my hand) I thank you from the bottom 
of my heart for the service rendered, and I 
shall always be grateful to you. I will go 
to see Edna— it is my duty.” 

I did not sleep much that night. I lay 
most of the night tossing in my bed — rest- 
less and sleepless— with Edna upon my mind 
so that I could not sleep. What must I do? 


90 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


I will not let her know that I have suffered 
so much. I am now determined that I will 
go to her, and talk with her, and know the 
truth from her own dear lips. 

rfc 

Breakfast over. We are again seated in 
the library, while Joe is getting the buggy 
ready for Mrs. Arlington and Ary. We have 
enjoyed the morning repast very much. I 
can say that I have every reason to have en- 
joyed mine, for I have pleasant company, 
and bright prospects before me. 

“Herbert,” said Mrs. Arlington, “this is 
my first visit to Ashleigh Hall, and I am very 
much pleased with it. It is a lovely place. 
I notice you have made it quite attractive. 
Ary and I took a stroll over the grounds this 
morning, and I think you have a grand 
home, and such a fine view of the river and 
mountains.” 

“Yes, it is a beautiful place, and I like it 
very much. Properly it cannot be called a 
home at present— perhaps it will become 
more home-like some day.” 

“Well, I hope so,” put in Ary. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


91 


“Yesterday was a dreary day, but this 
morning’s sunrise promises to be clear. It 
was dark and gloomy yesterday, but you 
have brought me sunshine. I do not wish 
to hurry you, but your buggy is ready.” 

They soon left me. 



CHAPTER 7. 


Next week, after making a few prepara- 
tions, I shall leave for New York City. Mr, 
Alfred Floyd, an old friend of mine, and also 
an old schoolmate, will be my host while in 
the city. He is a bachelor, and I have ar- 
j.*anged to spend a week or so with him, and 
incidentally to see Miss Edna Lancing. I 
anticipate a pleasant visit. 

H: ^ ^ 4: He 

“You have just arrived in time,” said Mr. 
Floyd, as I was met by him in the station of 
the Twenty-third street ferry, upon my ar- 
rival in New York City. We entered a cab 
and drove to his residence. “The season 
has opened, and the balls and parties have 
received a share of my time and attention, 
I shall entertain you with just as much of 
this gaiety as you like, for we have wonder- 
ful facilities here in this line.” 

The home of Mr. Floyd is a beautiful one. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


9S 


situated on one of the prominent streets in 
a pleasant neighborhood, and in the fashion- 
able quarter. After supper we took a stroll 
to Madison Square, which was but a short 
way off. ' Mr. Floyd being a particular friend 
of mine, and as I intended using him indirectly 
to assist me in meeting Edna, I deemed it 
proper to confide my secret to him. The 
weather was rather mild at this season of 
the year, and we sat upon one of the many 
benches which border the walks through the 
park. While sitting there watching the 
throngs of people crossing the busy comers 
at the intersection of Twenty-third street. 
Fifth avenue and Broadway, which was to 
me quite a novel sight, I told him of my 
affection for Edna Lancing. I was glad to 
leam that he was acquainted with her, as I 
had come to make up our differences, for 
we had been separated by Mrs. Lancing 
and Mr. Summerston. 

“Yes, I know Miss Lancing quite well, 
and indeed she is very popular as one of the 
belles of the season— and a favorite. I saw 
her only a few days ago. You know I do 


94 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

not call every lady I meet pretty, but I must 
say that not only is Miss Lancing pretty, but 
she is one of the most attractive young 
women I have ever met, and you know I 
have traveled in pretty nearly every country 
in the civilized world. To know Miss Edna 
Lancing is to like her,” 

“Perhaps I would not know her, as I have 
not seen her for some time,” I ventured to 
suggest. 

“When a girl arrives at her age she de- 
velops a matured expression, or I may say a 
fixed beauty. Miss Lancing appears to have 
taken some responsibility which to me has 
added charm to her expression. I was puz- 
zled over this, but after hearing your story 
I can understand it. If I were in your place, 
knowing her as I do, this weight of care 
would enhance her worth to me. I know 
she must have grieved over the situation, 
and while to many she perhaps has appeared 
to wear an expression of sadness, or indiffer- 
ence, you should prize her the more highly.” 

“Has she any special admirers?” I asked. 

“I have made the acquaintance of some 


' AT THE MERCY OF FATE 95 

splendid young men here who have en- 
deavored to pay her special attention, but she 
possesses that rare faculty of holding them 
at a little distance without sacrificing their 
friendship by any seeming indifference. I 
had the opportunity on several occasions at 
social gatherings to observe her ability in the 
culinary art and the managing of household 
affairs, and I could see she was an adept. It 
is evident that her mother has not neglected 
this important duty.” 

“A woman who is not domestic is not in 
the sphere which nature intended for her,” I 
added, gratified with this knowledge. 

“It would surprise you to know how few 
women who attend society events are at all 
domestic. I think Miss Lancing possesses 
qualities which would endear her to any 
practical man, aside from her good looks, 
and if you are so fortunate as to win her, I 
shall be glad to tender my congratulations.” 

Thus our conversation drifted. 

I had Mr. Floyd to inform Edna of my 
presence in the city, and that I was stopping 
with him. I preferred not to trust this to the 


96 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


mail, so I got him to apprise her personally. 

Next day Mr. Floyd said to me, “If you 
would like, we will go to a ball tonight at 
S— street. I have an invitation with a re- 
quest to bring you. I anticipated your visit 
and that you would attend. You will enjoy 
it, I am sure.” 

“Well, I suppose I am about ready to join 
you in the fun, and shall be glad to accom- 
pany you,” I replied. 

“Either a ball or a feast every night uiltil 
I am beginning to feel that I should grow 
tired of it, but I have never tired of dancing. 
It is really the most fascinating sport extant. ” 

“Perhaps there is where the harm comes 
in,” I remarked. “It carries some people 
too far.” 

“No,” said he; “I consider dancing an 
amusement that is really healthful, and it 
develops one’s muscles, but like many other 
good things, it has been abused.” 

^ ^ 

We did not stir about till late in the morn- 
ing, and after lunch we took a little stroll 
for the purpose of sight-seeing. In our tour 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


97 


we walked through Macdougal street into 
Prince across Elizabeth — and such crowds! 
There were many children crowding the 
thronged streets making an earnest but vain 
attempt to engage in various sports, some 
were trying to play ball, while the grown 
people pushed and jostled them about in 
their efforts to pass through. So^ie of them 
were sprawled out upon the sidewalk with 
pieces of colored chalk drawing pictures. As 
I reflected upon what my childhood had been 
in comparison to those children in the midst 
of that surging and pushing mass, I pitied 
them, for they had no other playground. 
All about that section — the tenement district 
— one must expect to be jostled and pushed 
about ere he gets along. Then we entered 
a landau carriage and drove to the Battery. 
We visited the Aquarium, which I enjoyed 
very much. We boarded a small boat and 
sailed over to the Statue of Liberty, where 
we mounted to the top of the structure and 
got a splendid view of the river and harbor. 
Returning, we went about the exchange, the 
Street of all streets, and saw Trinity church. 


98 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


the wealthiest church in the city. We pass 
City Hall and walk to Brooklyn over the 
largest suspension bridge in the world. 

:fc ^ ♦ ♦ 

A dance was just concluded; the music 
had ceased; a young lady and I were taking 
a promenade through the corridor. 

“Are you acquainted with Miss Edna Lan- 
cing?” I inquired of her. 

“Yes, sir; I know her quite well,” she 
replied. 

“Do you know where she is tonight?” I 
asked. ‘ ‘ She is an old acquaintance of mine. ” 

“She does not go out every night, and is 
perhaps more prudent than many of us, but 
she will be at the ball tomorrow night at 
Mrs. Emleigh’s. I suppose you will attend? 
It is to be one of the grandest fHes of the 
season.” 

“I don’t know,” I replied; “I do not know 
her; my acquaintance in New York is very 
limited.” 

“I thought everybody knew her.” 

“But you forget that I do not live here — 
I am from the South,” I returned. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


99 


“Where are you stopping?” 

“With Mr. Floyd.” 

“Of course he will be there. I know they 
are quite old friends, and if she knows he 

has a guest Well, to be on the safe 

side, I shall tell her you are visiting him.” 

“Thank you very much. I should be glad 
to attend the ball.” 

The music now began, and we were soon 
out on the floor keeping time with the merry 
dance. Little did she think what would be 
the chief attraction at the proposed ball 
tomorrow night. 


CHAPTER 8. 


“The face that I have longed to see, 

In fancy greets my sight; 

The voice I have not heard for years, 

Seems calling me tonight.” 

The morrow dawned, and in the afternoon 
Mr. Floyd and I visited Central Park, and 
spent much time in the Museum of Art and 
the Museum of Natural History. We walked 
through the picturesque climbs and dales and 
around the lake. This park has a wonderful 
reputation, for nearly everyone has heard of 
it — if of nothing more than that it has a zoo. 
Well, we saw the zoo, and it was indeed 
very interesting with a variety of birds and 
animals; but what the wonderful part of 
the park is I was at a loss to understand. 
So I concluded that the New York people are 
unduly attached to their city. I have seen 
places outside of New York which were to 
me equally as pretty as Central Park, but it 
would be dilRcult to get New Yorkers to 
think this. It is a large place, and is a 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


101 


pretty park — but there are others. We also 
visited the new Bronx Park, and saw another 
zoo which is indeed a treat to anyone who 
can avail himself of the opportunity to see 
it. New York is really a great city. 

Night came. I had been at the ball some 
time. I had danced until I was tired. I 
was alone, taking a little walk through the 
hall which led away from the ballroom, and 
ran across my friend, Mr. Floyd. I was 
glad to single him out, for there was no one 
else in that crowd who could aid me. 

“Alfred, I am real glad to see you. I was 
informed by Miss Heckoff that Edna Lancing 
would be here tonight, but I must own my 
disappointment, for I have been watching 
for her in vain.” 

“Well, well; that is strange, for she is 
here, and I have danced with her. So you 
did not recognize Miss Lancing? I should 
have introduced you,” said he, teasingly. 

“You don’t mean that you have danced 
with her — that I have seen her and did not 
know her? I believe I would know her 
anywhere.” 


102 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

“Certainly you have seen her,” he replied. 

I studied and studied. I recalled all the 
women I could remember, and not one of 
them could I think was Edna. I had been 
introduced to most of them, but several late 
arrivals I had not met— she must have come 
in late. Did she recognize me, and where is 
she? I could not think she had seen me. 

“I want you to do this for me: I will go 
into the conservatory, and you find Miss 
Lancing and send her in. I would prefer to 
meet her alone, and I think the conservatory 
is deserted.” 

“Very well; you may go in there now, and 
I will find her. Most of them are dancing, 
but if she is engaged I will have her excuse 
herself. There she is now,” indicating a 
little group at the farther end of the room. 

“Tell her she will find me by the large 
calla lily.” 

I found the room deserted, and took a seat 
near the lily whose great leaves were so 
large as to almost shield one from view, and 
it made a good hiding place. I had waited 
but a few minutes when I heard someone 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 103 

approach. I looked, and my heart felt as if 
it would leap into my mouth, for before me 
stood Edna — such exquisite beauty could 
not be possessed by another, I arose, and 
as I did so she stepped forward to extend her 
hand. 

"How are you, Mr. Earle?” 

"I’m in perfect health, Edna; but not ‘Mr. 
Earle’ to you. I beg your pardon, I can 
hardly restrain myself from clasping you in 
my arms, you look so beautiful tonight.” 

"Thank you, Herbert,” she said, smiling 
sweetly, which exposed a row of pearly teeth 
and brought a lovely dimple in her cheek. 

"Sit here with me, Edna, where I can be 
near you, for I have much to tell you.” 

She sat on the bench beside me— so close 
that my arms could easily encircle her. Is 
she merely as are so many women, or does she 
mean to be affectionate? Under the circum- 
stances I was naturally skeptical. 

"Edna, I am certainly glad to see you. 
Where have you been hiding all the evening; 
I have watched for you ever since I came. I 
thought I should have no difficulty in recog- 


104 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


nizing you at once, but I believe you have 
changed a little since I saw you last. Did 
you see me before you came in here?” 

“Yes. I came in late, but I have not been 
hiding, and I saw you several times. You 
passed very close to me once when you were 
with Miss Heckoff. I noticed you danced 
with her several times, and I envied her.” 

“You certainly did not envy her, did you?” 

She hesitated, and then smiled an assent. 

“Edna, do you really love me still?” 

“Yes, Herbert, and it seems I shall 
always love you,” she replied. 

“Oh, Edna, darling, how could ” But 

the words were not uttered. I hesitated to 
express myself, and was interrupted by her. 

“What is it, Herbert? I am afraid you 
have bad news for me. Don’t bring me bad 
news. I hope you are still my lover?” 

“Yes, Edna, my darling, I love you de- 
votedly. I have something to tell you, but 
how can I say it! I am afraid to tell you — 
and yet it would relieve me to do so.” 

‘ ‘ Then by all means tell it. If it concerns us, 
why not; we should both know it, ” she argued. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


105 


“Well, Edna, promise me you will not get 
angry with me?” 

“How could I? I shall not, I promise.” 

“Very well, then, assured by your 
promise, I will proceed, however disagreeable 
the duty,” I replied. 

“Then begin, please, for I am getting im- 
patient.” 

“You remember the last letter I received 
from you came from London,” I began, “and 
you stated that our correspondence was to 
cease. In the same mail came a letter from 
your mother. She had forbidden me to 
write to you: and she stated she had a young 
man in view for you. Afterwards I read in 
a newspaper an announcement that you and 
Mr. Summerston were to be married. I be- 
lieved the marriage had taken place. These 
items coupled together in a convincing way, 
so what else could I do! I had no way of 
learning anything from you. I had such 
implicit confidence in you, that it caused me 
to lose confidence in everyone. I thought if 
you were married to Mr. Summerston and 
deceived me then there was no one to trust. 


106 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


I must except Ary Arlington, for she has 
been a friend to me. I went to see her and 
told her about your mother forbidding us to 
correspond, and that she was endeavoring to 
marry you to Mr. Summerston. He had 
told her you were engaged to him. Ary 
promised to investigate for me. I said, if 
this is the way of the world, I will live se- 
cluded and not mingle with such people. 
Pardon me, Edna, I thought if you had been 
false to me, there were none I could trust. 
I stayed in my library all the time, preferring 
to devote my life to study. I cared not to 
see anyone. I felt that life was a burden to 
me. I became almost a hermit, and would 
be there now if it had not been for Ary. 
She and her mother were on their way to 
some place and stopped at Ashleigh Hall to 
see me and spent the night there. Ary said 
she had seen you at the springs and had quite 
a talk with you concerning you and me. I 
learned that you were still Edna Lancing and 
had not done as I had been informed. It is 
needless to say how delighted I was to know 
this and that you were still waiting for me. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 107 

I have come to New York to see you, and 
know the truth from your own dear lips. I 
have confided in my friend, Alfred Floyd, and 
you can trust him. I think it better to meet 
this way than to call at your home, for such 
a move would no doubt prove detrimental to 
us. I will finish my story by saying: 

‘The past has ranished as a vision, 

With all its shadows, clouds, and rain,’ 

and I rejoice to know that we are once more 
together loving each other. ” 

Edna did not offer to speak during the 
whole time I was talking to her, but sat there 
seemingly spellbound. 

“Edna, my darling, forgive me if I have 
had cause to think hard of you, for surely I 
have suffered. I have been wronged, but I 
thank heaven it has not been worse. Can 
you ever forgive me? I can never forgive 
myself. What must I do to repent?” 

“I readily forgive you with my whole 
heart, ” she replied. ‘ ' It was not your fault. 
I have been thinking while you were talking, 
and the cause of it all. I never realized the 
extent of the wrong, and I don’t see how you 


108 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


endured it, for I think it would have killed 
me. I would gladly have written you but I 
was compelled to make that promise for my 
own protection. That was the limit. I won- 
dered why I never heard from you.” 

“I rejoice that the reports were untrue, 
for, oh, what if they had been true?” 

“Now, I will tell my story,” began Edna. 
“After I wrote to you from London, I wrote 
Mama, making the promise that I would not 
write you again without her consent. She 
coerced me into it, but I believed it would be 
but temporary, and I waited for the pledge to 
be canceled. I wrote you first— both letters 
going in the same mail. I did not suspect 
that she would make a similar request of you, 
and I wondered why you never answered. 
When I saw Ary Arlington we talked over 
the matter and some things were explained. 
I tell you frankly, I go with Mr. Summerston 
only because I am almost compelled to, and 
I simply detest him, but I must not mistreat 
him. Mama has tried many plans to get me 
to think favorably of him, but I will not 
marry him, and I have told her so— and him 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


109 


too. I never heard about that notice being 
printed. That was mean!” 

“Edna, my dear Edna, I love you more 
now than ever.” 

“Herbert, as you are still my lover, and 
have renewed your pledge, let me say, nothing 
but death shall ever part us! Have patience, 
it will all come right in the end. It was 
never intended that we should be separated. ” 

This declaration brought me to my knees, 
and taking her hand I said, “Edna, you 
promise me that you will always be true to 
me, and 1 promise that I will cling to you 
through life— that we will always be devoted 
to each other— I will be your husband and 
you will be my wife?” 

“Now, Herbert, don’t kneel to me, for I 
am not worthy to have .you at my feet. Get 
up. I promise you upon my honor all you 
say— that I will be a devoted wife to you.” 

“And I will be a devoted husband to you,” 
I added. “Edna, let me clasp you in my 
arms,” and the next moment her beautiful 
head lay nestled upon my breast, shielded 
with my arms. 


110 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

Presently we heard footsteps, so our posi- 
tions were somewhat readjusted, when in 
another moment we beheld Mr. Floyd ap- 
proaching. He paused when he came near, 
and gave us a smiling benediction, for he 
understood our attitude better than anyone 
else could, and it was a relief that it was he 
instead of another. 

“I beg your pardon for my intrusion, but 
I thought it proper to tell you the people are 
preparing to leave, that perhaps you had not 
considered the flight of time.” 

“You are welcome to enter, and we thank 
you for the message,” I returned. 

“It is a pity to disturb your blissful mo- 
ments,” said he. 

“Mr. Floyd, I must say tonight is' the 
happiest to me in a long time. Edna, how 
is it with you?” 

“I am perfectly happy,” replied Edna, 
who stood near me. 

“I do not wonder at that,” said he. “I 
have known you both for some time, and I 
don’t know of a couple I would rather see 
married than you two.” 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE ni 

“Who said anything about getting mar- 
ried?” I asked. 

“Oh, no one; I was merely anticipating 
the natural.” 

We left the conservatory, and found as 
Mr. Floyd said, the place was nearly deserted 
—only a few couples remaining. It was near 
morning. Mr. Ferican, Edna’s escort, was 
waiting for her in the ballroom, and I was 
glad he had not made a hunting tour for her. 

“Miss Lancing, are you ready?” asked 
Mr. Ferican. 

“I’ll not detain you longer than to get my 
wraps,” said Edna, and turning to me, said, 
“I hope to see you at Mrs. Southall’s to- 
morrow night. Good-night, Herbert; Good- 
night, Mr. Floyd,” and was gone. 

We at once paid our respects to our hostess 
and departed to our home. 

I felt that I would like to call upon Edna 
next day at her home, but it would not be 
prudent under the circumstances. Besides, 
it might deprive me of the opportunity of 
meeting her elsewhere. If Mrs. Lancing 
should think our love was being revived then 


112 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


there would be no chance to marry Edna to 
Mr. Summerston, and it is better to remain 
away for the present, and not let her know I 
am here until I am ready to leave the city — 
then I shall state my case. 



CHAPTER 9. 


Who ne’er hath loved, and loved in vain, 

Can neither feel nor pity pain. — Byron. 

I have now been in New York nearly two 
weeks, and tonight will be my last night in 
the city. I shall leave for Ashleigh Hall to- 
morrow morning. This being my last night, 
I will see Edna at her home. We have 
talked the matter over, and I have decided 
to take the risk. I have arranged to take 
her to a party, and my prospects and plans 
must be laid before Edna’s parents. It can 
work no hardship now, for Edna and I under- 
stand each other perfectly, and even if they 
refuse their consent to our union it will be 
but a short time before we can have our own 
way. I shall state the case to them so they 
cannot fail to understand me. 

I was at the door and rang the bell, which 
was answered almost immediately by Edna. 

“Herbert, I am so glad to see you. I 


114 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

thought it would be better to answer the bell 
myself. It seems a long time since I saw 
you last, and I have counted the hours and 
minutes which would bring to me the dearest 
one upon earth.” 

She had taken me into the drawing-room, 
and we were alone there. 

“Edna, you can imagine how glad I am 
to get here. Perhaps I should not empha- 
size ‘here’, but I am so glad to see you again 
before I leave. You know this is to be my 
last night in New York City.” 

“Yes, and I am sad at heart on account of 
it. I have been sad all day thinking over 
our separation,” said Edna. 

“You are not usually given to gloomy 
moods, and it may inspire you to appreciate 
the effect it will have upon me. There is no 
good reason why our anxiety should be pro- 
longed, and I have come here at last to know 
my fate. I propose to lay before your 
parents the positions we hold toward each 
other, and, if successful, arrange for our 
marriage. What kind of a reception do you 
think they will give me? Of course, they 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 115 

are too genteel to treat me discourteously." 

“Oh, Herbert, I am almost afraid for you 
to mention it to them for fear they will not 
approve of it— then what must we do? All 
day I have been trying to get up courage to 
venture forth, but am too much of a coward. 
I am filled with nervous apprehension.” 

“I mean to ask them,” said I, “and would 
prefer to speak when both are present.” 

“What must we do if they refuse?” 

“We will be married anyway, sweetheart.” 

“If this marriage does not take place, I 
will never be happy— never in this world. 
But I do not want to marry without their 
blessing,” she admitted. 

“Edna, you will not marry their choice, 
now you must take your own choice, and I 
expect to marry you, not them. Our love 
must conquer,” I declared. 

“Of course, Herbert; and I tell you here 
in plain English, that if we cannot get their 
consent, I am willing to defy them. This is 
to my interest,” she replied, with firmness. 

“I must see your father before I go, for if 
I do not I cannot see him at all. Whatever 


116 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


the result of our debate, we can go to the 
party and enjoy ourselves.” 

“I will go after Papa; I left him in his 
room,” said Edna, and she was gone. 

I did not have long to wait, for she soon 
returned with her father, and then excused 
herself. After a cordial greeting, and some 
casual remarks— for Mr. Lancing did not 
know I was in the city — I introduced my 
subject. 

“Mr. Lancing,” I began, “I suppose you 
are aware of our engagement— Edna and I?” 

“No, I had not heard of it.” 

“I supposed you had, for the reason that 
an endeavor had been made to estrange us, 
but it was ineffectual. I have come here to 
talk the matter over with you. Edna and 
her mother came to Virginia some years ago 
and visited Mrs. Arlington in Ridgeley, the 
town in which I lived. Edna and I were 
quite small at the time, but an attraction 
sprang up between us at once. With me it 
was love at first sight, and we have continued 
to love each other during all these years, al- 
though we have not been together very much 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


117 


during that time, and notwithstanding the 
fact that an effort was made to estrange us. 
Long time ago Edna promised me that when 
she was old enough she would marry me, 
and I have come to ask you for your consent, 
not desiring to go contrary to your wishes. 
Mrs. Lancing is better acquainted with me 
perhaps, and I am not a stranger to you. 
Before you take a stand against us I wish 
you to make proper inquiry as to my charac- 
ter and general reputation, and I am sure 
you will consider this matter from a father’s 
standpoint, and deal favorably with me.” 

“I fear that my views at this time may 
not appear to your entire satisfaction, Mr. 
Earle, ” he replied. “ It is true we have met 
on several occasions, but our acquaintance 
alone would not be sufficient to warrant a 
satisfactory answer to you at this time. It 
is true that, so far as I know, there is noth- 
ing derogatory, and I have a high regard for 
you— but I cannot see that you are the man 
Edna ought to marry. This is quite a sur- 
prise to me.” 

“I will admit you may be a little sur- 


118 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


prised, but I beg to assure you that unless 
you give us your consent and Edna and I are 
married, she will never be happy, and I am 
of the opinion that you would desire her 
happily placed, I will venture to say she 
will remain unmarried. At the same time, 
I consider it your duty to your daughter to 
do for her the best you can.” 

“Mr. Earle, I have always loved Edna as 
much as is natural, and have tried to do my 
best for her, and I desire to have her marry 
happily as far as lies in my power.” 

“I have seen a great many girls,” I con- 
tinued, “and Edna is my choice of the world. 
I have plenty to provide for her. I am com- 
fortably situated, and she shall not want for 
an3d:hing that money can procure. I own a 
beautiful home, and my desire is that I can 
have Edna there as its mistress. We are 
devoted to each other, and there is no reason 
why two people loving each other as we do, 
should not be married. You may, of course, 
withhold your consent, as I am informed 
you have preferred another, but you cannot 
keep our hearts separated. I trust you will 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 119 

consider this: give it a thoughtful considera- 
tion, and I will await your approval, feeling 
sure that it will come by and by.” 

“You are both young, and you have plenty 
of time. Besides, this upsets my plans,” re- 
plied Mr. Lancing. “You should give some 
thought to the great responsibility that rests 
upon the head of a family. Many persons 
rush into matrimony, so to speak, without a 
second thought of what cares it involves, its 
duties, and its obligations. It would be well 
for you both to reflect before taking this 
great step you contemplate.” 

“I have considered all this, and more,” 
I argued, glad to have the debate more in 
detail than I had expected. “ I have thought 
it all over, and I feel that I am capable of 
caring for the one whom I adore more than 
anything upon this green earth. I prefer to 
deal with life in a practical way, and I have 
every reason to believe that Edna will be 
happy in my home— if I did not think so I 
would never want to take her there. I am 
devoted to Edna, and I am satisfied that we 
are well suited. Not only have I thought of 


120 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

the obligations of matrimony, but I have 
considered the negative side of the situation. ” 

“Let me see, how long has it been since 
you and Edna met in Ridgeley? How old 
were you then?” 

“We were quite small, but our love for 
each other has not been lessened by the 
advent of years, I assure you.” 

“Mr. Earle, your earnest manner is quite 
natural with one of your age, and you are 
merely two children playing with love. You 
are a man now, I see; but, as small as you 
two were then, you could not have known 
such a thing as love when Edna visited 
Ridgeley, for that was a long time ago if I 
remember aright, and this fascination will 
pass away. No, I cannot give you my con- 
sent at this time. Some time, when I can 
understand you better, I may talk with you 
again. I will bid you good-night, and send 
Edna in,” said he, and left the room. 

Presently Edna returned, but her expres- 
sion was sad, and I felt my disappointment. 

“Edna, we are unsuccessful. I failed to 
get any encouragement from your father: he 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


121 


was not interested in the subject at all so far 
as I am concerned. I don’t know what to 
do next.” 

“I was talking with Mama just now, 
and she thinks I am too young to get mar- 
ried, and said I had better wait awhile. I 
do not believe in children marrying, but it 
seems they cannot realize that I am twenty. 
She requested me to say she was sorry she 
could not see you this time, but under the cir- 
cumstances she wished to be remembered.” 

“Thanks, Edna; and she shall be remem- 
bered: I do not propose an early elopement, 
and I shall tender your parents all due 
respect, believing that we have not to wait 
in vain.” 

“What do you think of an elopement?” 

“I believe we will gain their consent if we 
wait a little longer. Of course, if we cannot 
get their consent, we will marry without it. 
The fact is, they have not had time to think 
it over. It was a surprise to your father.” 

“You are quite right. I detest these 
runaway marriages, and I want to be married 
in the proper way— nothing clandestine.” 


122 


AT THE MERCY OK FATE 


'‘I agree with you, but we cannot secure 
their consent at present. Now it is time for 
us to go to the party, so if we are going you 
had better slip on your wraps and be ready." 

“We can talk about our wedding on the 
way,” replied Edna, and she left the room 
with an exultant spirit. 

“Let us go into the conservatory, Edna, 
and have a little chat— my time here is 
precious now," said I, as we stepped from 
the ballroom, just as the music ceased. 

We left the busy ballroom, and entered 
an alcove of the conservatory, where we 
were quite alone. The conservatory proper 
was a large room and made a delicious 
change from the bustle of the ballroom. A 
cluster of lights suspended from the ceiling 
shed a colored splendor upon the plants that 
filled the room— upon ferns, vases of violets 
and broadleaved tropical plants; great vines 
of running ivy and myrtle draped the walls. 
Large vases contained immense lilies. We 
took a seat in the alcove, which was partially 
screened by the festooning vines and the im- 


PAGE 122 



WE ENTERED AN ALCOVE OF THE CONSERVATORY 
WHERE WE WERE QUITE ALONE 






AT THE MERCY OF FATE 123 

mense leaves of an umbrella plant. The 
tropical odor emitted by this veritable flower- 
garden was refreshing. 

“Edna, somehow I am not a bit interested 
in the ball tonight, and I would much prefer 
talking with you. I suppose it is because I 
want you more than the ball, and you are 
more to me than all the parties. Still, I 
would like to remain in New York longer as 
it has enabled me to see you, but I fear it 
would not be to our interest, as we cannot 
get your parents’ consent now. They must 
be permitted time to think the matter over. 
I am confident that all will come right, and it 
is important that you do what you can.” 

“Herbert, you know I will do all I can. I 
wish I were going with you. Everything 
here will lose its charm when you are gone.” 

“Your father did not make an absolute 
refusal, but he said he must wait until he 
knew me better. I comprehended the situa- 
tion at once— he admitted that it upset his 
plans, and, Edna, this is the sore spot. You 
will be able to exert an influence over them 
now that they know, and your welfare is en- 


124 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


titled to recognition, I want your father to 
make use of the suggestion I made, that he 
investigate as to my character, and the ability 
to care for his daughter in the proper way. 
Parents should know something about the 
person into whose hands their daughter is to 
be placed.” 

“I feel at liberty now to mention it to 
them— I was a coward before.” 

“I do not know when I will be here again, 
but I trust the next time will be when I come 
to claim you for my wife.” 

“I am not going to let Papa and Mama 
rest until I have their consent to our union, 
and I shall get Papa to make the inquiry you 
suggested, for I am sure that will have a 
decided effect upon him. Now, Herbert, I 
have confidence in you, and if I ever marry 
it will be when I marry you, but I am a 
jealous little thing, and I ” 

“There is no true love without a little 
jealousy,” said I, interrupting her. 

“I don’t want you to flirt with any of 
those Virginia girls when you go home. I 
want you to love me just the same. ‘To all 


AT THE MERC7 OF FATE 


125 


my sex be obliging and free, but never show 
fondness to any but me.'” 

“Well, I will promise you never to flirt 
with any girl in Virginia, or anywhere else.” 

“I didn’t mean it,” said Edna, apologet- 
ically. “I was merely teasing you. I don’t 
think you would be guilty of such a thing as 
flirting.” 

“I have never given a thought of love to 
any woman but you. Such love as mine 
comes but once. I can never love another as 
I love you, and I have no desire to play with 
what I consider the most sacred sentiment 
we have— that of loving a true woman. No 
love can be stronger than ours, and I hope 
none will be sweeter. I do not believe it 
was intended that we should be separated. 
You said you would always be true, and I 
have found it so. Edna, do you remember 
our first kiss in the private parlor of Hotel 
Kenedy?” 

“How could I forget it?” she asked, with 
a touch of emotion. 

“Now, that you have promised to be my 
wife, I want you to give me a betrothal kiss. 


126 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

The first was a pledge of our love; let this 
be the pledge of our lives.” 

“Herbert, you remember the words of 
Shakespeare: 

‘Thou art no man, though of a man’s complexion, 

For men will kiss, even by their own direction.”' 

She placed her arms around my neck, as 
she had done in Boston, when she gave me 
the first kiss. This kiss pledges our hearts 
until death parts us. 

“This is our betrothal kiss, Edna — a tie 
that can be broken only by death.” 

“Do you think a kiss a very sacred thing?” 
she asked. 

“A kiss is to me a sacred thing. Though, 
of course, it may be a trivial matter with 
some people— it is sacred only to those who 
use it sacredly. To me it is a seal of true 
love. The girl who is pledged to her lover 
by a kiss is doubly pledged. I think a kiss 
is the sacrament of love.” 

“Then we are surely pledged to each other.” 

“This is as sacred as a marriage to me, for 
I know I can trust you always. Y our promise 
has been sealed, and our compact is just as 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


127 


sacred with this seal as it ever can be, if we 
will construe it so, and its legality is merely 
to comply with the laws of the land. As for 
our affection toward each other, we are 
bound together by the sacred kiss.” 

“You seem to look at matters in so much 
earnestness,” she returned, evidencing by 
her manner that such things were regarded 
by her too with perhaps as much earnestness. 
I have never known her to jest over any- 
thing concerning our relationship. 

“Edna, when we get married I want to 
spend our honeymoon in traveling. You will 
not object, will you?” 

“Oh, no; lam fond of traveling. I have 
wanted to take a trip through the old country, 
and that will be a nice time to take it, when 
we can enjoy it together.” 

“Then I will let you prepare the itinerary. 
We must continue to live in hopes, as by 
faith and trust for the better we realize our 
ambitions. Who has the next dance with 
you?” I asked, a moment later, as we had 
remained quiet, lost in our own thoughts, so 
I spoke after a little silent meditation. 


128 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


“I have no more engagements.” 

“Then you will permit me that pleasure?” 

“Certainly, Herbert,” she replied, sweetly. 
“I almost belong to you, and you may fill in 
the remainder of my card — I have reserved 
it for you.” 

Then we entered the ballroom where every- 
thing was a perpetual stir of brilliancy. 

The ball is over, and Edna and I are being 
driven to her home. 

“Edna, I wish you could write me in a 
few days and tell me what your parents have 
to say of our engagement. I am curious to 
know, and, remember, I want you to do all 
you can to win them.” 

“Of course, I shall; but I must not forget 
the promise I made Mama. Do not despair, 
for I will be true to you.” 

We were in the hall of her home, and I 
was saying my last words of farewell to her. 

“Edna, it is hard to have to leave you, but 
I must bid you good-bye; it is time you were 
in bed, or your pretty blue eyes will look 
quite badly on the morrow.” 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


129 


Under the circumstances our farewell was 
sad, though we separated with confidence 
that we would win our case. 

It was almost morning when I retired, but 
sleep failed to come to me. I was tired, and 
my mind was upon Edna Lancing. It was 
hours before I slept — and then but a short 
time. 

The morning dawned before I was out of 
bed. It was a foggy day : surely not a day to 
make one feel happy. The gloomy weather 
gave a somber aspect to everything, and one 
could not resist the infiuence of this cloud 
hanging over the city. I was saddened by 
the fact that this was my last day in the me- 
tropolis, and the joyous season I had partici- 
pated in, which was augmented in many 
ways by my friend, Alfred Floyd. His kind- 
ness placed me under an everlasting obliga- 
tion to him in aiding me to recover my lost 
jewel, and I could hardly tear myself away. 
He accompanied me to the ferry, where he 
remained until the signal was given, and the 
gang-plank was withdrawn, and I left the 
noisy humdrum of the great city. The 


130 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


foggy gloom which overspreads New York 
like a pall at my departure does not extend to 
a great distance after I leave Jersey City, but 
there follows me a gloom which does not 
abate even after the skies begin to clear. I 
have plenty of time to reflect upon the great 
change from the incessant noise and hustle 
of the busy streets to the quiet of the coun- 
try. I can almost feel that life at Ashleigh 
Hall will be relished. 

He 4c * 

Once more in Old Virginia, the home of 
the brave and the land of the free — once 
more at Ashleigh Hall! The old home does 
not appear the same to me as when I left. 
The change is with me and not the place, for 
I am beginning to contemplate its home-like 
appearance when Edna comes. I can almost 
imagine the influence of her bright face. 
“Behind the clouds is the sun still shining.” 
I have faith in that cloud’s shifting, and 
when it passes, the gleam of brightness will 
penetrate every nook and comer of Ashleigh 
Hall. 


CHAPTER 10. 


Several weeks have passed since I returned 
from New York. It is the first of Decem- 
ber. Christmas is almost here. Last Christ- 
mas was a cheerless one for me— I was here 
pining away my life in despair, feeling that 
the girl I loved had played me false and was 
married to another. The melancholy situa- 
tion in which I was placed caused me to feel 
that everyone had forsaken me, and my 
future seemed without a ray of hope. A 
change has taken place— the girl is not lost 
to me, but remains faithful and true, and 
my future has a ray of hope. With that 
prospect before me I can face the world with 
renewed courage, as a brave soldier faces 
the enemy. I have something to live for. 
A selfish life never satisfies the one who lives 
it. Life is hope, and hope is life. Life with- 
out hope is incomplete and stagnant; it must 
be revitalized or it becomes sluggish, and 


132 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


no life which is shut up to itself can grow. 
A person can never inspire hope within him- 
self— he must reach out beyond the confines 
of his person. 

“Every heart knows its own sorrow; 

Every life has its own special form of shadow.” 

Although Ashleigh Hall is a lovely place, 
and I have become very much attached to it 
—with the many comforts it affords— my 
loneliness has been felt since my return from 
New York. The gay life of the metropolis 
has been followed by a reaction. As I sit 
here in my library thinking of my trip, 
reviewing the pleasures of the parties and 
balls, and the kindness of my old school 
friend, Mr. Floyd, and how he had contribu- 
ted to my pleasure— my meeting Edna, and 
remembering all we said to each other— the 
reverie has had a peculiar effect upon me, for 
it is in noticeable contrast to the evening when 
Mrs. Arlington and Ary called. That evening 
made a turning point in my life, and as I re- 
call thatday, Longfellow’s poem recurs to me: 

“Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; 

Behind the clouds is the sun still shining.” 

I wonder if a life can be so gloomy as to be 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 133 

without a ray of hope at some time? We 
may feel so, as I did, but it is only day by day 
that the veil of the future is raised for us. 

I have not opened my morning’s mail 
which has just been brought in. I must see 
what I have here. Letters first always, then 
the papers. I opened a letter and read: 

New York City, December 2, 18 — . 
Mr. Herbert Earle: 

My dear sir— I take the liberty this morn- 
ing of writing you upon the strength of some 
investigations you suggested when here of 
your standing. The replies are commenda- 
tory. It also gives me pleasure to advise 
that the favorable decision desired of my 
consent to the union of Edna and you has 
been reached after the investigation, and the 
consideration of what Mrs. Lancing and I 
believe is for the welfare of the daughter so 
dear to us, and that it will also contribute to 
your happiness. 

If I had not been told that you had left the 
city, I would not have failed in the surmise, 
for the effect it has had upon Edna has not 
escaped me. She declared that when you 
left life had lost its charm. I have observed 
her carefully, and decided to make the in- 


134 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

vestigation you suggested, and am convinced 
that I need not be afraid to place her in your 
keeping. We have held several conferences 
in order to arrive at what we deemed proper, 
and this morning we decided to acquaint you 
of the conclusion reached— the one you hoped 
for. I had thought it mere folly for you to 
dwell upon an attachment of childhood, be- 
ing of the general opinion that it was, as 
some say, a “nursery affair.” I now admit 
I was wrong. It is needless to apologize, for 
it is a parent’s duty to look after the welfare 
of his daughter, and withholding my consent 
was done, as I believed, for her protection. 
I did not understand you then, but from in- 
formation obtained, you are practical enough 
to appreciate my position. I believe the 
devotion of you two is sufficient to command 
my respect, and you have my best wishes. 
You are to be congratulated for the honorable 
manner in which you have conducted yourself. 
Mrs. Lancing joins me in the wish expressed. 

Edna herewith incloses a letter to you 
which will, I hope, make matters satisfactory. 

Yours very truly, D. Z. Lancing. 

Edna’s letter ran as follows: 

My dear Herbert— How glad I am to be 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


135 


able to write you these heart-pleasing lines. 
I hope you will not censure me for not writ- 
ing before. Now that I have permission 
to write, and the consent to our union, they 
have requested me to write at once, so I 
write with my very soul, as it were. As 
Papa and Mama have consented, I am anx- 
ious not to have our marriage delayed longer 
than would be proper, and have set the date. 
You told me when you were here that when- 
ever it suited me, it would be agreeable to 
you. . I have selected the 3d of June. This 
seems a long way off, but they would not 
have it otherwise. I have always wanted 
to be married in June. I am anxious you 
should know this, so you will excuse this 
brief note, and I will write a longer one in a 
few days. Let me know your plans at once. 

As ever your devoted Edna. 

What a pleasure it is to receive letters— I 
mean letters of this kind! One’s destiny 
may be told in a letter. Some letters bring 
cheer— others bring desolation. Edna’s suc- 
cess brings me much happiness. They could 
not keep our lives separated when our hearts 
were so close to each other. They were 
compelled to yield when love dictated. Our 


136 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


wedded life may be crowned with a blessing 
through tribulation. 

♦ :ic * * ♦ * 

One’s anxiety must necessarily be sensitive 
at the arrangements for the marriage, con- 
sequent upon the interruptions we have en- 
dured in om courtship, but now that pros- 
pects appear more favorable, we must abide 
the decree. The time seems long for me to 
wait, and I shall count the days before the 
date arrives. Still, since I happen to think 
of it, the 3d of June will be an anniversary 
of the time I saw Edna in the hotel parlor 
in Boston, the first time I had spoken to her 
since we separated in Ridgeley. It may be, 
perhaps, that Edna purposely arranged the 
marriage date as a celebration of our meet- 
ing. Incidents have a peculiar way of ar- 
ranging themselves, and one is sometimes led 
to believe that a coincident bears a relation 
to its precedent. At the same time, let us 
hope that no incident is in store to interrupt 
our married happiness similar to that which 
has marred our previous relations. Destiny 
is governed by certain natural laws, carrying 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


137 


a thread of relationship to all its influences, 
and the effect of one’s life must be controlled 
by all the incidents which brought it into 
existence. Happiness and contentment are 
a result, based upon environment and con- 
ditions. No matter how one may strive, 
there is a power which shapes our lives, 
against which some have practically no re- 
sistance, with the result that some lives are 
failures and others are crowned with success. 
Each life represents an incident in the great 
Life of the Universe, and the span of our 
years is but a moment in the period of its 
purpose. Give us, Fate, all the happiness 
allotted to us, and let us so live that we may 
have few regrets. Time is the balm which 
heals our wounds. 

He ^ ^ 

In a few days I must accept an invitation 
to spend a week with friends in Maryland. 
They have given me a cordial invitation and 
I promised to be present. 

While at the springs some time ago I made 
the acquaintance of Mr. and Mrs. Dameron, 
who were sojourning there during my stay. 


138 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


Mrs. Dameron seemed very fond of Edna 
and me, so we became excellent friends. 
She has also invited Ary Arlington, who is 
expected to be present, and I am looking 
forward to a merry time. Duskydale is her 
postofRce address, and I remember that it is 
also the address of Mr. Maurice Summer- 
ston. Suppose I should meet him there? I 
shall not let that interfere with the good 
time in store for me. But I mui^t see Ary 
Arlington before I go. I have not seen her 
since my retium from New York City. She 
will be pleased to learn of my success. I am 
indebted to her more than I can ever repay. 
I will write to her now to know if she will 
be at home to me Monday. 

In due time the answer came, stating she 
hoped to see me at that time. 

Monday morning came, and found me 
upon my favorite steed pacing toward 
Ridgeley. I had not been to Ary’s home for 
more than a year. The distance was soon 
covered by my swift horse. 

Here is Ary’s home. I was ushered into the 
drawing-room, and was soon in her company. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


139 


I told Ary about my trip to New York 
City, and the grand time I had while there, 
of meeting Edna, and the subsequent meet- 
ings, how I had endeavored to get the con- 
sent of Mr. Lancing and failed. Since then 
I had received a letter from Mr. Lancing 
which has healed the sore, and that now 
everything appears bright for us, and the 
time set for the nuptial ceremony. We had 
a long talk— very enjoyable, too. She was 
glad to know I had accepted the invitation 
to spend a week at Beechwood Abbey. Ary 
is a clever girl, and I always enjoy her com- 
pany, and am loth to leave. 

I intended leaving before tea, but my 
presence there was not to be dispensed with 
so suddenly. When Ary says a thing there 
is no denying her— it is simply impossible. 
I enjoyed the hospitality of Mrs. Arlington, 
and she rejoiced to know that Edna and I 
had succeeded at last in having our own way. 

It was night before I took my departure. 
The moon was on the increase, and its gleams 
lighted up the roadway, with here and there 
a shadow where some tree overhangs the 


140 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


road. The clear, crisp, frosty air was brac- 
ing — a temperature which stimulates the 
blood and brings a glow to one’s cheeks. It 
was a lovely night for horseback riding, and 
I enjoyed my ride, for my spirit was in tune 
with the hopes soon to be realized, and 
while pacing toward Ashleigh Hall I did 
not refuse to allow my mind, unbidden, to 
dwell upon the prospects of my change — I 
was no longer the despondent hermit of a 
few months ago. 



CHAPTER II. 

“Music hath charms.” 

I had just quitted my room to go down 
stairs where I knew Ary Arlington was 
waiting for me. The other guests would 
spend more time with their toilette and 
would not be likely to appear so early, and 
as I had an engagement with Ary I wanted 
to have a quiet Ute-d-tHe with her before 
they appeared. 

As I passed through the broad corridors 
of Beechwood Abbey, as though held by a 
charm, I paused in front of a window and 
looked out at the lovely night — at the white 
snow, and the moonlight causing shadows 
of the great swaying boughs of beech trees. 
The moon was just full, and its silvery gleams 
shone clear upon the expanse of undulating 
valley where “the snow had carpeted the 
earth and festooned the forest, and clothed 
the hills in a beautiful drapery of white.” 


142 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


The window sash was partly open, and the 
room being warm and comfortable the cool 
air was refreshing. Every now and then the 
wind came whistling among the branches, 
and the doleful sound attracted me and I 
paused before the open window, where I 
stood entranced. 

Through the silent frosty air came the 
melodious strains of a violin. It was no 
longer the mournful howl of the wind, but 
violin music which now held me with a subtle 
charm. What does it mean! It seems that 
Edna must be playing her violin — the 
touch seems so much like hers. It still 
comes to me in clear vibrations, across to 
the window where I am standing, as though 
charmed by its sweet, soft strains. I was 
compelled to pause a few minutes and listen. 

What a beautiful night ! The clear stretch 
of snow, broken here and there by the trees, 
the hedges, and the evergreens — all of which 
were capped with snow. It was a lovely 
sight. I then wended my way to the draw- 
ing-room. 

The room was neatly arranged, and very 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


143 


cozy. Ary Arlington had just finished her 
toilette, and was dressed in an exquisite tea- 
gown of old gold satin half smothered in 
lace. She made a lovely picture as she 
reclined there in a lounging chair. Ah, Ary 
is a beautiful girl, and as she sat with her 
head thrown back a trifie, presenting a full 
view of her profile, and her bright eyes gaz- 
ing leisurely into the light of a glorious 
fire, thoughtfully, she was a sight to behold. 
An artist would pause at the threshold. 

“What a relief,” said I, as I entered the 
drawing-room. 

“Herbert, are you here already?” she 
said, as she turned her head. “I told you I 
would be the first one here.” 

“Yes, and I am second. I am glad to find 
you alone, for I have wanted to have a little 
talk with you before the others arrive. It 
is a pleasure to have an old friend with you 
when among strangers— it makes you feel 
much more comfortable.” 

“Yes, and did you know that you will see 
another of your old friends here tonight — a 
real dear friend of yours?” 


144 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


“I have no idea who it can be,” I replied. 
“I have not heard of anyone that I may call 
a real dear old friend of mine.” 

“Then I know you will be surprised when 
I tell you that Edna Lancing will be here 
tonight,” said Ary, in the self -composed 
way, which is so becoming to her. 

I could not have been more surprised, nor 
more pleased, than I was at hearing this. 
We are to have a party tonight. Mrs. Dam- 
eron and Ary, with a few of the guests I had 
just met, were all the people I knew. I did 
not know Edna was in the neighborhood. I 
thought she was in New York City. I had 
written her that I would spend a week at 
Beechwood Abbey. Ary and I arrived only 
yesterday, and some other guests came to- 
day, and when I last heard from Edna she 
was at home, so her presence in this section 
came as a surprise to me. 

“Mrs. Dameron just learned of her ar- 
rival a short while ago, and immediately 
sent her an invitation, and she will be 
present. She came from home today.” 

“I am certainly pleased to know she has 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


145 


accepted the invitation,” I replied. “It is 
kind of Mrs. Dameron to have Edna and me 
together. Ary, you would have been amused 
if you had been at the Brunswick hotel a 
few years ago when Mrs. Dameron did so 
many little things to add to our pleasures. 
The fellow-guests were a selfish lot— each 
intent upon what would contribute to his 
own enjoyment, while Mrs. Dameron 
endeavored to aid us. You know that was 
where I met her, and I consider her a 
splendid woman — whole-souled, kind and 
thoughtful! It is a pleasure to know such 
a woman.” 

“Yes, her generous manner makes one 
feel under obligations to her, yet she seems 
never to require any assistance; she is so 
self-sacrificing. I like her splendidly.” 

“I will tell you something later if it comes 
true. I was so fascinated just a while ago 

that I ; well, I had better not say any 

more about it just yet, I may be wrong.” 

“lam anxious to know what that is you 
have to tell me, or rather what it is you will 
not tell me: you have aroused my curiosity,” 


146 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


she replied, with a coquettish little shrug of 
her shoulder. 

“I hope you will find out, but I would 
rather not tell you now.” 

“To return to Edna Lancing, however,” 
Ary remarked, “she will not be here until 
a little late, I am afraid.” 

“Where is she stopping?” I asked. 

“With Mrs. Summerston, and no doubt 
Mr. Maurice Summerston will bring her over. 
I learned that a short while ago from Mrs. 
Dameron. Now, don’t let any jealousy in- 
terfere with your enjoyment. I think you 
should rest easy for Edna has shown her 
loyalty to you.” 

“Is Edna acquainted with the guests?” 

“Most of them, I think. You are not ac- 
quainted with Mr. Summerston, are you?” 

“No, not formally, but I think I know him 
by reputation,” I replied, feeling that the 
knowledge I had was sufficient. 

“Herbert, I am sure Mr. Summerston is 
sorry for his conduct, for he evidently sees 
by this time that it cannot avail him any- 
thing. I am informed that he has changed 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


147 


very much, and I believe he wants to do 
better.” 

“I hope he has changed for the better. I 
think there is some room for improvement,” 
I retorted. 

“I understand he is tr3nng to sectu’e the 
position now vacant as cashier of the Dusky- 
dale National Bank.” 

“lam afraid he will not be able to get it,” I 
returned. ‘ ‘ There will be no hurry to fill this 
position, and a man must have a ‘pull’ to 
get in; the bank is getting on all right as it 
is. If he should be so fortunate as to get it 
I hope he will do his duty honorably.” 

“Would you aid him in the matter should 
he call upon you?” she inquired. 

“I fear it would not be wise for him to 
call upon me after his conduct, for that is 
about all I know of him, and I have no 
recommendation to oifer.” 

“I understand you are a stockholder in the 
bank, and could be of some service to him. 
He has been well endorsed as being qualified 
for the position.” 

“Should he call on me, we can talk the 


148 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


matter over. I am not willing to commit 
myself as to just what I may do — I don’t 
say I would refuse to aid him.” 

“You might have some influence, and if he 
intends to do right he will appreciate your 
help.” 

Then we turned the conversation to more 
pleasant topics, but were soon interrupted 
by the incoming of the guests, and the room 
soon became filled. I formed a number of 
new acquaintances— some of them were quite 
lively, and we had plenty of fun. 

Later on I saw Mrs. Dameron come in with 
Edna at her side. Ary and I were sitting in 
a comer talking, being very well screened 
from view by the position of others. When 
they came near I took particular notice of 
Edna’s expression when she saw me, and I 
saw her flush and smile. Reader, it is com- 
forting to watch the expression of one who 
loves you. 

“Mr. Earle, allow me ,” began Mrs. 

Dameron, but our eagerness in greeting each 
other dispensed with the formality, and after 
a word of cheer she left us. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


149 


“Edna, this is an agreeable surprise you 
have for me. I thought you were in New 
York until a few minutes ago,” I said. 

“Yes; my coming was arranged rather 
suddenly— all since I got your letter, which 
had a good deal to do with it.” 

“It seems that Fate has come over on my 
side recently,” I returned. “Strange things 
happen sometimes. Are you stopping very 
far from here?” 

“I am stopping at Mr. Summerston’s, and 

it is about , oh, I don’t know just how 

far, but it is only a short distance, though.” 

“Were you playing your violin at Mr. 
Summferston’s tonight, just before you 
left?” I inquired of her. 

“Yes. They would not let me off until I 
consented to play a few pieces for them, for 
I had not been there long— I came today.” 

“Ary, I am right,” I exclaimed, turning to 
her. “As I passed through the corridor up- 
stairs on my way down here, a window was 
open, and I stood a moment and was admir- 
ing the beautiful night, when as I did so I 
heard someone playing the violin— the sound 


150 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


was coming to me over the snow, and the 
touch seemed to belong to Edna.” 

“Is it possible! You heard a violin from 
Mr. Summerston’s! But I must not doubt 
that if you heard the music, you could recog- 
nize the performer,” Ary replied, with sig- 
nificant glances at each of us, accompanied 
by a teasing smile, and wondering how we 
would take it. 

“There is something in Edna’s very touch 
by which I can tell it the moment I hear her 
play. The night is rather quiet except for 
a light breeze now and then coming from 
that direction which brought me the music.” 

“We had a window open— the room was 
so warm— and I played several pieces in a 
high key.” 

By this time Mrs. Dameron returned with 
Mr. Maurice Summerston, and introduced 
him to me. It was somewhat difficult to 
assume indifference in my manner in order 
to receive him gracefully, and I endeavored 
not to show the slightest feeling of resent- 
ment; but I could observe that my presence 
was a surprise to him, and he was a little 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


151 


embarrassed. I chatted pleasantly with him 
and tried to make him at ease, but he did 
not stay long. I permitted him to be Edna’s 
escort at dinner, and I accompanied Ary to 
the table. 

Dinner over. 

Again we are assembled in the cozy room. 
I find myself occupying the same place in 
the comer as before, and Edna sitting near. 
Mr. Summerston has very politely divided 
his time with some of the other guests. I 
did not object. This is the first time I have 
seen Edna since I left her in New York. 
The events of the past year seem like a 
dream to me. Yet, such a dream— so much 
like real life, I can hardly satisfy myself 
that it is not at least partly a dream, and not 
all a reality. Edna and I mention some inci- 
dents of the past year, then my thoughts 
wander back to the time when Edna and I 
were in the little parlor in Hotel Kenedy in 
Boston. We mention several little items 
culled from our memory of the past few 
years, and comment upon them. We find 
pleasure in recalling our respective histories. 


152 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

and end by assuring each other that here- 
after our life will be crowned with our mar- 
riage and all the happiness possible at 
Ashleigh Hall. 

“Yes, Edna, it was sad. I shut myself 
up in my home, alone— shut out from all the 
world— dreaming bitter, hideous dreams; 
hating life and all it held most dear, and 
thinking of you as of one who had entered 
my life but to ruin and wreck it— you, who 
had been my heart’s ideal, pure, true, and 
good, beautiful as a poet’s dream — the one 
woman who held my life, and every hope. 
There I would sit for hours and brood, and 
think, until my brain would seem on fire, and 
my weary heart grow sick with its burden 
of going through life alone and uncared for. 
I heard you loved Mr. Summerston and were 
to marry him! But, oh, Edna, I learned the 
truth— it is not too late, and you are to be 
my wife. ‘Behind the clouds is the sun 
still shining!’ ” 

“You see, Mrs. Summerston and my 
mother were children together and have 
been such great friends, and since my birth 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


153 


they have been looking forward to the time 
when Maurice Summerston and I would be 
married. Mrs. Summerston has treated me 
as nicely as one could expect and I am fond 
of her, but strange to say, I have never been 
partial to Maurice, though he thinks he has 
the best claim to me, and I must be kind to 
him on account of our mothers’ friendship. 
We thought it better to make them a visit at 
this time as this will be my last before we 
are married. They do not know of our be- 
trothal, and I am not ready to announce it.” 

“Of course,” I replied. “I want to tell you 
that Ary mentioned a while ago that Mr. 
Summerston had improved, and was an ap- 
plicant for the position now vacant of cashier 
of the Duskydale National Bank. It is a 
good position for the right man. I do not 
know of his qualifications. What do you 
think of his securing it?” 

“I heard of it today. He is certainly 
qualified, but I do not know what his chance 
will be. I think he has influence with some 
of the directors.” 

“I happen to be one of the directors of 


154 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


the bank, and Ary asked me if I would give 
him any encouragement, and I told her I 
would not commit myself. I do not intend 
to throw any obstacle in his way; but if he 
wishes to do the position credit, so far as I 
am concerned, he must change his procedure.” 

Then the conversation regarding Mr. Sum- 
merston ceased, and presently Edna referred 
to her marriage and said she thought the 
name “Edna Earle” the prettiest in the 
English language, and she was proud to 
know she would soon be the possessor of it.” 

“And I think Edna Earle, to be, the pret- 
tiest girl in the world,” said I, “and I am 
proud to think that I will soon be the pos- 
sessor of her.” 

“Mr. Earle, Miss Lancing, why don’t you 
come over here and join in our play?” came 
a voice from the room, in which direction I 
chanced to look. “Edna, my sweetheart,” 
I whispered to her, “perhaps we have been 
a little inconsiderate, and we had better join 
them.’j^ Then raising my voice, I replied to 
the one across the room, “Indeed I beg your 
pardon, but we did not know you wanted 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 155 

US,” trying to apologize for our negligence. 

“That is the worst case I have seen for a 
long time,” I heard one of the guests say, and 
I took it in good humor, as I soon learned 
that this guest is a jolly, good-natured soul, 
and made use of every opportunity to amuse 
the assembly. 

Mr. Summerston looked up as we ap- 
proached the table where they had been 
playing whist. They were just arranging for 
a new game, a change being desired at the 
several tables, and we were wanted to take 
part. I could see from the expression of 
Mr. Summerston that there was some 
jealousy in his disposition. 

“Of course you didn’t know we were play- 
ing at all,” she replied, continuing to tease. 

“Now, my dear madam, don’t accuse us 
of indifference, for we really had not been 
invited before. I assure you it will afford us 
great pleasure to join your game. I am very 
fond of whist, and I feel sure that I can 
speak the same for Miss Lancing.” 

“You both seem unaware of the presence 
of anyone but yourselves,” she continued. 


156 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


“Don’t think I am finding fault, for I am 
not; you see, I am an 'old bird’, and I know 
just how it goes.” 

“One would not take you for a ‘spring 
chicken’,” I rejoined. 

The laughter this remark provoked fully 
compensated for the dart she had thrust at 
us, and placed us at ease with the group, 
with a tendency to divert their attention. 

Following this we indulged in various 
games which made merriment for all, and 
kept us up till late. The evening was one 
long to be remembered. 


CHAPTER 12. 


The morning dawned gloomy and threat- 
ening. The afternoon was terribly dark, 
and it seemed night was superseding day, 
and necessitated the lighting of the lamps 
at an abnormally early hour — the day was 
yet so ridiculously young. The blinds had 
not been pulled down. The cozy room af- 
forded a sense of delight, for outside the 
wind was howling dreadfully, whirling the 
snow vigorously. The weather is so differ- 
ent from last night. Weather makes fre- 
quent changes in this latitude, with little 
warning given. We were sheltered in com- 
fortable quarters, and we gave little heed 
to the snow-storm which was raging outside. 

Edna and I were enjoying a tete-d-t^e upon 
a large oldtime sofa. All about the room 
were scattered the guests in parties of twos 
and threes. Mrs. Dameron was talking to 
Mr. Summerston— perhaps to give Edna and 


158 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


me a chance. Ary Arlington was sitting near 
them, being the third party of the group, 
but in one of her quiet moods, like “Patience 
on a monument smiling at Grief.” The two 
little children of Mrs. Dameron, Elmer and 
Daisy, romped about from window to window 
watching the snow as it piled mountain-like 
upon the window-sill. It seemed we would 
be prisoners if the snow continued much 
longer. Several cats, favorites of all the 
guests, were frolicking over the large blue- 
ribboned rug before the fireplace. It was 
interesting to watch them as one j would 
tumble the other over, fairly laying him out, 
then run across the room to take a command- 
ing view of his antagonist, as much as to 
say, “I am champion of the situation.” 
Some people contend that no other creatures 
but mankind are emotional. When we study 
the various creatures we find that some of 
them possess a wonderful amount of humor, 
and I can imagine these cats smile. 

Snow, driving snow, continued to beat 
wildly against the windowpane, causing us 
more than once to look out anxiously. Much 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


159 


surprise was manifested upon hearing the 
shutting of the hall door, showing that some- 
one who had just come in must have 
traveled through this terrible snow-storm. 

“I believe it is Everette,” said Ary, ad- 
dressing herself to no one in particular, and 
then going into the hall. 

Presently she returned with Mr. Everette 
Cassell, a young man from Salem, who has 
been her particular adorer. They are a 
handsome couple, coming now through the 
parting heavy velvet curtains which hang in 
the doorway. Mr. Cassell appears a stranger 
to most of the company, but is soon made to 
feel at home in this genial crowd, with no 
perceptible evidence of ill effects from this 
disagreeable weather. 


CHAPTER 13. 


“Are they building their nests, my darling, 

In the stubble, brittle and brown? 

Are they gathering threads, and silken shreds. 

And wisps of wool and down. 

With their silver throats and speckled coats. 

And eyes so bright and so brown? 

Oh, and I would I could see them make 
And line their nests for love’s sweet sake. 

With shreds of wool and down, 

With their eyes so bright and brown! ” 

The above is part of a poem which repre- 
sents the longings of a blind person for sight 
and the beauties of nature. I rejoice that 
I have sight and health to appreciate nature’s 
gifts. I am thankful for the prospects be- 
fore me, and am longing for the time when 
Edna can be with me and make glad each 
of the glorious days of Summer. 

June will soon be here, and our marriage 
will be on the 3d of the month — I am count- 
ing the days till then. 

This is the month of April. Springtime is 
here with its sunshine and chirping birds, 
superseding Winter with its cold blasts, and 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


161 


those who have been compelled to keep 
indoors can now venture forth to enjoy its 
wholesome eifects. 

I have been most of the day in my library 
reading, but now I have laid aside my book 
to watch Joe arrange the flowers, trans- 
planting them from the greenhouse to the 
beds. Joe takes great interest in the lawn, 
and succeeds in making it attractive. 

When the Ashleigh home was broken up, 
and I purchased Ashleigh Hall, two of the 
servants remained — Joe and his wife Martha. 
Joe looks after the outside premises, while 
Martha takes care of the house, keeping 
it scrupulously clean, and is a flne cook. 
They belong to the remnant of that class of 
slave negroes who received careful training 
by competent masters, which is evidenced by 
not alone the friendship and polite demeanor 
to those they serve, but their courteous be- 
havior to all with whom they come in contact. 

They both look eagerly forward to Edna’s 
coming, and they have sworn their allegiance 
to us for the remainder of their lives should 
we outlive them. It would be hard to find 


162 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


two servants more faithful and loyal than 
are Joe and Martha. 

I am expecting a visitor. Mr. Maurice 
Summerston is to call here, and I am looking 
for him any moment. I am going to wel- 
come him, and treat him as though I had 
known him as a friend. The inquiry I have 
made does him credit as a business man — so 
after all, he may not be very bad. 

There he is at the gate, and I go out to 
meet him. We greet each other cordially. 
He would not have his horse put away, as he 
will leave shortly. 

“Mr. Summerston,” said I, after we had 
exchanged a few words apropos to the oc- 
casion, “this is fine weather we are hav- 
ing, and makes one feel like going about, 
though I have been indoors most of the day. 
If you wish to, I shall be glad to stroll over 
the grounds with you, or, if you prefer, we 
will sit upon one of these benches, or we will 
go into the house if you are tired.” 

He said he was not tired, and would prefer 
a stroll. After which we entered the libraiy . 

“I had passed Ashleigh Hall several times. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 163 

but never knew it to be such a pretty place. 
I have indeed enjoyed our walk over the 
grounds.” 

The object of his visit was then mentioned 
— the enlisting of my support to secure the 
position now vacant of cashier of the Dusky- 
dale National Bank. 

“Mr. Summerston,” I said to him, “lam 
not a man to desire your enmity, and I shall 
not antagonize you— I do not believe we 
should hold spite. I am well-disposed toward 
you, and, remember, if I can render you a 
service, I shall be glad to do it, but I would 
prefer that those services are not abused. 
The main qualification necessary in this po- 
sition is that of competency; besides this he 
should have business influence, and I am in- 
formed that your standing in the community 
is no discredit to you. I am advised that 
you are sincere and capable. I believe it is 
better to render a kindness than to bear the 
ill-will, and I may favor your application.” 

“Miss Arlington told me you said you 
would not censure me should I call on you.” 

“No, Mr. Summerston, I shall not do that. 


164 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


Should I wish to reprimand you I would ap- 
proach you kindly, showing you your error, 
and then ask you to accept the right. I will 
not allow myself to be misunderstood in 
what you know to be upon my mind. You 
are aware of this little difference, and I beg 
to assure you that I do not wish you evil. I 
do not wish to censure you for coming to me 
and asking me to favor you, and I would as 
willingly favor you as anyone. I heard you 
have given up your follies— for such you 
must deem them— in fact, that you have re- 
formed, therefore I am anxious to extend a 
helping hand and render the service asked.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Earle. Although I feel 
unworthy, and you could withhold the favor, 
I shall not be ungrateful. I come to you 
penitent, and I desire to apologize for the 
wrong I did you. I hope that in the new field 
you will find me a friend, and never have 
cause to regret any little favor shown me.” 

“lam proud to know that you look at the 
matter in that light. And as a stockholder 
of the Duskydale National Bank I shall favor 
your application.” 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


165 


“Mr. Earle, I have long wished to talk 
with you upon the subject alluded to. Of 
course you could not blame me for loving 
Miss Edna Lancing — I have known her from 
childhood, and it was only natural that I 
should — her many charms would entitle 
her to admiration anywhere. But I beg to 
apologize for circulating false rumors of our 
engagement. It is said ‘All’s fair in love 
and war’, but I have learned that to be a 
fallacy. I did you a wrong, but I hoped to 
win her. Perhaps my disposition is different 
from yours. Jealousy is its own curse, and 
I am trying to control myself. I should 
curb my passion to some extent and keep my 
feelings in the background. I am sorry for 
the wrong done you both.” 

“I forgive you heartily, Mr. Summerston, 
believing that you are sincere in your atone- 
ment, and as Longfellow says: 

‘ Let the dead Past bury its dead! 

Act — act in the living Present! 

Heart within, and God o’erhead! ’ 

and let us never allude to it again, as it is 
to be deplored.” 

I prevailed upon Mr. Summerston to take 


166 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

supper with me, and I believe that when he 
left there was dawning a better feeling be- 
tween us than heretofore. I invited him to 
call again, and he promised to do so. 
****** 

Mr. Summerston has been made cashier of 
the Duskydale National Bank. Little did he 
think what this would mean to him. He is, 
I believe, trying to merit the confidence of 
the people. Duskydale is only a village, but 
the prosperity of the surrounding country 
makes the institution a profitable one, and 
Mr. Summerston’s salary is rather lucrative. 
I trust he will be faithful to his post. But 
I must not hurry on too rapidly as other 
things must be narrated in the order of their 
happening. 

Ary Arlington and Mr. Everette Cassell 
have been married. They were married in 
the old Methodist Church in Ridgeley. I 
was present at the ceremony, and it was a 
grand affair. Never, I believe, did a couple 
leave ‘the altar more handsome than were 
Ary and Everette. It seemed they did not 
fear the obligation they were assuming, and 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


167 


each left the altar with a smile as though 
the Fates had pulled aside the curtain and 
given them a glimpse of an elysian future. 
To judge from appearances it must have 
been the happiest moment of their lives. A 
fair dream of youth— both just budding into 
maturity with the promise of happiness for 
their new condition— she, lovely and attrac- 
tive; he, ardent and gallant. Their sky was 
not shadowed by a cloud— everything serene 
and sublime. They left the following day for 
their new home in Salem, where they will be 
surrounded by numbers of kind friends. 
Mr. Cassell is engaged in the cigarette busi- 
ness, and is, I understand, quite successful. 
Recently he has constructed a machine for 
the rapid manufacture of cigarettes which 
promises to go ahead of anything heretofore 
devised. 


CHAPTER 14. 

June the 1st, 18— no, I will not give the 
year — it is now a long time ago, and it 
does not make any material difference about 
the year. 

I leave Ashleigh Hall for New York City. 
In two more days my bachelorhood ends. I 
know that some young men on the eve of 
their marriage spend that time in drinking 
to the health of their old companions, or 
others must spend a week in dissipation with 
them. I realize that the step to be taken is 
a serious one, and the few days left should 
be devoted to meditation, for there are two 
paths to think upon— the one about to be 
forsaken may or may not have been just as 
it should, while the new path should have 
sober, thoughtful and clear reflection, and it 
is a time when one has need for the posses- 
sion of all his faculties to be on the alert. 
Dissipation may end in a revel. There are 


AT THE -MERCY OF FATE 


169 


grave duties and obligations to be assumed. 

I arrive at the residence of Mr. Floyd 
the next day, and am glad to be his guest. 
We are quite old friends, and he is to be my 
“best man” at the marriage, which is to take 
place on tomorrow evening at church. 

Sk * 

The ceremony is over. Edna and I are 
married — married for all time. Happiness 
has been attained by the celebration of our 
pledge to each other. This is the 4th of 
June. We have just finished our late break- 
fast the morning after the ceremony, and 
all the arrangements have been completed 
for embarking to Europe. The boat leaves 
at ten o’clock. Mr. Lancing’s residence is 
saddened by the parting with their only 
child, and, while their loss is my gain, I 
cannot leave without feeling that their loss 
is not an easy one to bear, and is deserving 
of a world of gratitude. 

We have taken leave of a host of friends 
who have come to the wharf to see us off, 
and with a mingling of smiles and tears they 
bid us a pleasant voyage. 


170 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

Edna and I were standing near the railing 
of the quarter-deck watching the crowds of 
people thronging the street below. I could 
not resist a feeling of sadness when contem- 
plating the separating of ourselves from 
home and the land of our nativity, with such 
a boundless waste of water which makes 
return precarious. Even now, as I call to 
mind that beautiful morning — truly an ideal 
Spring day, so fair and glorious, so promis- 
ing to bear us safely across the briny deep 
— it makes me wish for another such one. 

Orders for leaving have all been executed 
at length, and the boat glides from the pier. 
The deck is quiet. I am standing near the 
railing watching the handkerchiefs waved 
to the departing steamer. It is difficult to 
realize the extent of our separation. 

Passing around the Battery, we leave the 
Statue of Liberty in the distance; a last 
glimpse o| the city as it pales before us, and 
we are nearing the ocean. What a lovely 
day for sailing. 

“Herbert,” said Edna, who had been quiet 
up to this time, “you must be very much 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 171 

engrossed with your own thoughts. What 
can you be thinking of?” 

“I am thinking of our separation. It 
makes me sad as I watch the land disappear- 
ing, and begin to realize what it all means. 
It means that we may never return.” 

“Yes, dear, it does; but we must not allow 
such sad thoughts to enter our minds, for it 
only makes us gloomy: think of the other 
shore, and all that it holds in store for us.” 

“Oh, we will have plenty of time for that 
yet,” said I. I could see that she, too, was 
prone to think of home. 

“It is such a beautiful day for sailing,” I 
returned. “I hope we will be able to cross 
the ocean without even a breaker to mar it.” 

“Yes, the water is very well behaved.” 

“It would be delightful to have the sea as 
calm as it is now for the entire voyage.” 

“That does not often happen. I remem- 
ber well my first voyage — it will be three 
years in September— and I got seasick. It 
would be well for you if you can escape sea- 
sickness.” 

“I trust I shall escape that, and all the un- 


172 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


pleasant things connected with the voyage,” 
I replied, growing conscious that even with 
the prospects of a smooth voyage, there may 
be some disagreeable things to endure. 

“Herbert, let me see that paper you have. 
I want to read the news. I wonder if they 
have an account of our wedding.” 

Mr. Lancing had placed the paper in my 
hands as we came aboard, and I had taken 
it hurriedly, not even looking to see the name 
of it. Now that my attention was called to 
it I gave it to Edna. I had stood there hold- 
ing it unconsciously. We took deck chairs 
and sat in a shady comer of the deck which 
was hid from view, where we could watch 
the disappearing land. I gazed at the point 
of land we were leaving, while Edna scanned 
the paper for the marriage notice. 

“Listen to this,” she exclaimed when she 
spied the notice, and as I turned my head to 
give attention, she began: “A Brilliant Wed- 
ding.” 

“Yes, Edna,” said I, intermpting her; 
“how could it be anything but a brilliant 
wedding when you were the bride!” 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


173 


“Wait until I read it,” and began again: 

“ ‘At the church last evening at 8 

o’clock, by the Rev. A. M. Warren, assisted 
by Dr. S. E. Weber, Mr. Herbert Earle and 
Miss Edna Lancing were united in the holy 
bonds of matrimony. The church was most 
beautifully decorated: an immense bell of 
Marechal Niel roses and white hyacinths hung 
from the ceiling in front of the chancel, while 
great banks of ferns, palms, and rare hot- 
house plants made a perfect bower of loveli- 
ness. As the soft strains of Mendelssohn’s 
wedding march fell upon the ear, the bride, 
clad in a magnificent white satin, her long 
white veil caught up with orange blossoms, 
her superb diamonds sparkling like stars, and 
carrying a bouquet of bride’s roses, walked 
slowly down the aisle on the arm of her father. 
Following her came the bridesmaids. Down 
the opposite aisle, leaning upon the arm of his 
best man, Mr. Alfred Floyd, came the hand- 
some bridegroom. They met at the altar, 
where they were made one “until death doth 
part.” The bride is one of New York’s most 
beautiful and accomplished young women, and 
the groom is one of Virginia’s representative 
business men. They leave today for Europe 
where they will spend their honeymoon.’” 


174 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


“Oh, Edna,” I exclaimed, when she had 
finished reading the notice; “that is just 
splendid, don’t you think? I want to keep 
that paper for you can get but one such 
brilliant wedding in a lifetime. I thank the 
reporter for giving such a nice writeup. 
But, Edna, all they could ever say in the 
newspapers would never make me think 
more of you, for I don’t see how I could love 
you any more than I do right now.” And I 
kissed her, in evidence, for I thought her the 
prettiest girl that ever breathed. She did 
not refuse me the caress, but, as on all other 
occasions when I paid her any compliment, 
she received it with solemn complacency. 

9i( :ic 4c * * * 

It is the second day out. We have had 
beautiful weather since leaving New York. 
Now, the stars are out, and darkness over- 
spreads the water. In port, this boat ap- 
peared very large, towering loftily at the 
wharf, but now it is rather insignificant as 
it ploughs the mighty ocean. We are rapidly 
approaching the “Banks”, as Newfoundland 
is called by the sailors. Edna and I are 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


175 


sitting on deck. The captain, who had just 
left us, had been telling us of a dangerous 
voyage he made once, and his narrow escape 
from the jaws of death. They were cross- 
ing the “Banks”, and as a rift appeared in 
the clearing of the fog, he saw a boat pass- 
ing him at such close range that it made him 
shudder as he thought how near he was to 
having a wreck. Had his boat been delayed 
one minute they would have collided and he 
might have been killed. I sat there think- 
ing of the dangers a sailor is exposed to, 
and was aroused by the touch of Edna’s 
hand upon my arm. 

“Why so pensive, dear? How that story 
must have affected you! You seem to take 
things so much to heart.” 

“I know I should not; but, darling, I can 
not help it. We are now in the same place 
he was in,” I returned. “This is one of the 
most dangerous places a boat has to pass.” 

“Yes; but many boats have passed through 
such fogs without harm, so why should not 
we?” 

It was indeed very plausible argument. 


176 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

but I felt a kind of dread that we would not 
pass as we had fondly hoped. A queer pre- 
monition of evil was controlling me. I tried 
to think of the bright side of the voyage, 
and endeavored to anticipate the pleasures 
of Europe, but I could not resist this fore- 
boding, as it seemed to me. 

With vague fears we retired to our state- 
room. I shall never forget how I felt that 
night just before going to sleep. I could 
not sleep so easy as when at Ashleigh Hall. 
I dreaded to close my eyes, and yet I knew 
that everything about the boat was all right. 
The sky was clear, and the weather fine. 

Between midnight and morning every soul 
on board was aroused by a terrific jar, fol- 
lowed by a crash which ran from stem to 
stem, with a racking vibration that made 
one feel that the bottom was about to drop 
out; then the machinery stopped and the 
boat came to a standstill. The boat had 
evidently struck something. I sprang from 
my berth instantly and turned on the light. 
Edna was awake, and at once left her berth. 
Not waiting to dress, we hurried above to 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


177 


ascertain what had happened to the steamer. 

Up on deck everything was in confusion. 
The passengers were appearing as rapidly as 
they could reach the deck, scrambling to the 
officers to learn the trouble, for we had 
struck an iceberg, and the steel plates in the 
forepart of the ship had been stove in. Al- 
ready water was forcing its way into some 
of the rooms. The pumps were being used. 
The captain gave the passengers all the in- 
formation possible, and said he thought they 
might be able to patch up the leak. The 
deck was now becoming filled with people. 
Women and children were screaming. Edna 
stood clasping my arm, and her face was pale. 
I was apprehensive in the extreme, and real- 
ized my inability to cope with the elements. 

Some of the passengers had come on deck 
in their night-clothes, and were afraid to 
return to dress. The fog was so thick that 
it was impossible to see across the deck. 
The presence of the iceberg cooled the air to 
almost a chill, but we could not see it in the 
fog. The engine was giving signals every 
few seconds. Everyone anxiously watched 


178 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

the lifeboats, expecting them to be lowered 
at any minute. An officer addressed the 
crowd, saying the boat would be safe for an 
hour or more, though it was impossible to 
say what the result would be, that the extent 
of the damage had not been ascertained. 
This was followed by a wail that was pitiful! 
The uncertainty of the situation was terri- 
ble! Upon this information Edna and I 
returned to our stateroom and completed our 
dress. We secured what valuables we had 
with us, fastening them to our clothing, and 
dividing our money, to prepare us in case of 
accident, then again went up on deck to 
await the result of the trying ordeal. 

Now everything was quiet on deck. A 
dead silence prevailed, save the engine’s 
signal whistles. An expression of horror 
was upon everyone. 

Presently the captain, with a revolver in 
his hand, accompanied by the first and second 
mates, each carrying lanterns, came forward, 
followed by the sailors. In a loud voice the 
captain stated that the steamer must be 
abandoned, and we must take to the life- 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


179 


boats, commanding that orders be obeyed and 
everyone would be provided for. Then, in a 
clear and steady voice he called out: “First 
boat lowered; women and children forward.” 

While the lifeboat was being lowered, we 
began to realize our position— Edna and I— 
that we must be separated. Oh, how hor- 
rible! The boatsman carefully placed the 
women and children in this boat, and when 
the proper number were taken in, the of- 
ficers and sailors entered to man it. It was 
then swung over the side of the steamer and 
into the darkness. Another boat was low- 
ered and sent forth. Edna was in line for 
the third boat. With a farewell kiss and an 
affectionate embrace she stepped forward 
to take her place in the lifeboat, while I 
stood silently watching until the boat was 
swung over the railing. Then my thoughts 
became active as I beheld our separation — 
life or death! When my time came I was 
placed in one of the boats for the men. 
Each boat was supplied with officers and 
sailors, and as soon as we reached the water 
they applied their oars as rapidly as possible 


180 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


to get away from the steamer. In the fog 
we could not see the lights of the boats that 
preceded us, and all were getting beyond 
reach of the suction when the steamer goes 
down. We were fortunate in having a mild 
sea, and we made good headway. We kept 
moving directly from the steamer, and 
did not rest till daylight. When day came 
the fog had somewhat cleared, but we did 
not get entirely out of it until in the evening. 

The lifeboats were provided with “hard- 
tack”, a tough bread, to feed upon. This 
sustained us, and kept us from starving. 

The second day we were rescued by a tramp 
steamer headed for Spain. In due time we 
reached the shores of southern Europe, and 
were soon landed at Gibraltar. As soon as 
I landed I cabled to New York to Mr. Lan- 
cing of my arrival, and to notify me when 
Edna is heard from. 

Each day that I lingered at the hotel 
seemed an age! Oh, to hear something of 
Edna’s fate! The suspense was terrible, 
not knowing what the tidings would be — 
whether I was to rejoice over her rescue, or 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


181 


to mourn over her death. Being married 
but a little more than a week, and now, 
perhaps we would never meet again! 

The scene of the disaster of the steamer 
recurred to me again and I imagined I could 
hear the wailings of those people as they 
thought of the uncertainty of the lifeboats, 
and saw again the line which separated the 
women from the men, taking the wife from 
her husband, the mother from her son; I 
could see Edna as she left my last embrace 
and passed down the line to take her place 
in the lifeboat; I seemed to see her again as 
she turned her head to give me a last look 
—it was only a moment— but I shall never 
forget the expression upon her brow. 

That lovely face, so sweet and fair, 

With horror overspread — 

Still haunts me with its wild despair. 

Its hopeless fear and dread. 

Hi * * * * * 

A week passed. Then one day a message 
came that Edna was in Liverpool, and would 
wait there for me. Words cannot tell how 
thankful was my heart to know that she 
was safe, and I immediately went to her. 


CHAPTER 15. 


We were at Langham’s hotel in London 
one day when, with the letter Edna received 
from home, came a clipping from a news- 
paper, which read as follows: 

Robbery of the Duskydale National Bank. 

Last night between 8 and 9 o’clock when 
Mr. Maurice Summerston’s servant went to 
the bank to tell him to come to his supper, 
having been uneasy about his absence, he was 
surprised to find the door unlocked and the 
place in darkness. He opened the door and 
struck a match, and as he did so he heard a 
groan. The cashier, Mr. Summerston, was 
gagged and bound to a post. The servant 
cut the ropes which held Mr. Summerston, 
and he fell prostrate upon the floor. A phy- 
sician and officers were hurried to the place, 
and it was not long until he was revived. The 
safe was wide open. He was given a stimu- 
lant, and in the presence of the physician 
and officers of the bank, made the following 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


183 


statement : “The clerk was at home on a plea 
of sickness, so I had to do all the work, I 
finished before dark, and when about to close 
the safe, some men rushed up to me and 
placed a revolver at my head, saying, ‘ If you 
make a noise I’ll drop you^ They gagged 
me and bound me to this post, and carried 
away the money. I was left in the condi- 
tion my servant found me,” Quite a num- 
ber of opinions have been expressed as to 
the ability of Mr. Summerston to gag and 
bind himself as he had been fixed when found. 
Some hold that he could have done so, while 
others insist he could not. Detectives from 
Washington came and searched the place, 
but could not find a clue. Mr. Summerston 
has been arrested on suspicion of embezzle- 
ment, and will await developments. 

Edna read the clipping while I sat holding 
the letter. At the conclusion I remarked: 

“That is quite a severe blow to Mr, Sum- 
merston, and so soon after his appointment, 
too. I am afraid it will go rather hard with 
him.” 

“I think it is too bad for him to be held 
on suspicion when he may be perfectly inno- 
cent. I am sorry for him.” 


184 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


“Yes, Edna,” I returned, “he may be 
perfectly innocent, but he must be held by 
the authorities until something definite is 
learned about it.” 

“I don’t think it is right, Herbert, do you?” 

“Well, that is a question, though not for me 
to decide. From that report, with the proba- 
bility of Mr. Summerston binding himself, he 
would appear in the eyes of the law as the 
perpetrator. Just suppose no one can be 
found to have committed the deed, then he 
will probably be considered guilty, even 
though no money is found in his possession. 
Suspicion certainly rests upon him.” 

“Yes, that may be so. But if he is not 
guilty he should be released.” 

“Mr. Summerston was the only person to 
have seen the robbers, and that is against 
him. The innocent often have to suffer for 
the guilty. Our sympathy will not help him 
one bit. All we can do is to wait patiently 
and let time bring it to light, as it evidently 
will. But, to change the subject, where do 
you wish to go tomorrow?” I asked, for I did 
not care to dwell upon the subject longer. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


185 


“ I would like to visit the Tower. Where 
would you prefer going?” 

“Edna, your wish and word is law. We 
will visit the Tower. I have no preference.” 

“Well, I have been there, and we could 
easily spend a whole day in the place. I 
think you will enjoy it.” 

“lam anxious to see the Tower. It gives 
me pleasure to take you anywhere you wish 
to go. We will start early and spend the 
day there.” 



CHAPTER 16. 


The Tower, like all the public buildings in 
London, is well guarded by police. Several 
of the blue-clad officers greeted us at the 
gate where we left the cab. We had passed 
the Tower several times in our sight-seeing 
tours, but were unable to arrange our visit 
here before now. Just as we entered the 
grounds a company of cadets were marching 
through the narrow arcade entrance. The 
first place of interest was the Regalia, the 
room in which the Crown Jewels are kept. 
The room is quite large, but not well lighted. 
In the center of the room is a large glass 
case, probably ten or fifteen feet across, and 
in this case are the Crown Jewels. It is a 
magnificent sight, and doubtless I will never 
see another such costly array of jewels — all 
mounted in pyramid display in the octagon 
case. A red rope running round is fastened 
to posts, one at each comer, and a guard is 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


187 


stationed at each post. After viewing this 
treasure we passed to the Banqueting Hall 
where guns in great profusion have been 
gathered as trophies from various battle- 
fields. Leaving the main rooms we entered 
St. John’s Chapel. Returning to* the Hall 
we saw in a glass case the armor of the Duke 
of Wellington. Then in another glass case 
were several miniature models of the Tower 
showing the stages of growth. It had but 
recently been completed. Now, in case of 
danger the entire place could be quickly sur- 
rounded by water, and made almost impene- 
trable from the enemy. An effort' was once 
made to blow up the place, but the explosives 
were detected in the possession of the parties 
in time, and the destruction of a valuable 
collection was prevented. In the Tower are 
implements of war representing more than 
a thousand years of the world’s history, of 
which the British should feel proud. 

We visited the Council Chamer Whit 
Tower, and then took a rest and some refresh- 
ment in the lunch-room near the entrance. 

Then we entered a building constructed of 


188 AT THE MERCY OF FATE 

stone, similar to the others in design, called 
the Beauchamp Tower. A winding stair 
leads to the upper part, and the stairway was 
so dark that we had to follow the rope which 
directed us to the upper story. Several nar- 
row windows let in all the light they could, 
but it was insufficient. The student familiar 
with English history will recall the use of 
this building, for it was used as a prison, and 
held many prominent persons. Upon the 
walls of the small rooms of the Tower are to 
be found inscriptions which the prisoners cut 
to aid in pleading for life and liberty. Some 
of these were like Egyptian hieroglyphics to 
me and several were interpreted for us. 
Near the Tower is the site where Queeri 
Anne Boleyn, Katherine Howard, Lady 
Jane Grey, and others, were beheaded. Just 
outside of the building are placed some 
cannon which represent many ages: one 
cannon, partially burned in the ship. Great 
Harry, weighed five tons. 

* * 5k * * * 

One afternoon we went to the Victoria 
Station and boarded the train for Crystal 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


189 


Palace. Passing through a long covered hall 
after leaving the carriage at Crystal Palace 
station we reached the grand mansion. It is 
built of glass and iron, and is a magnificent 
structure. It is the most capacious build- 
ing in the world, having floor space sufficient 
to accommodate one hundred thousand peo- 
ple. We spent considerable time wandering 
through the immense rooms. As one enters 
the Palace he is attracted by the many rooms 
on either side of the main entrance, each 
being devoted to some special line of merchan- 
dise. In the center of these rooms are the 
various articles, including many souvenir 
novelties, arranged upon pyramidic display 
stands. Considerable taste and skill has 
been exercised in the arrangement, and they 
are presided over by girls, each of whom 
will insist that you make your purchases 
from her table. Edna admired the Art 
Gallery, and it pleased me that she did. It 
is finished in the naked or exposed architec- 
ture, with frescoed walls and ceiling, and 
they are handsome in the extreme. Edna 
expressed a desire to sketch the artistic de- 


190 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


signs and finishings. We were not surprised 
to find a few girls stationed in different parts 
of the room with their easels and drawing 
materials making sketches. We passed on, 
viewing the pointings that lined the walls. 
There were long rows of statuary busts on 
pedestals, embracing nearly all of the most 
famous men and women of the world. One 
room which was connected with the Art 
Gallery was lined with this statuary. In the 
main part of the building were All Nations 
in Wax— and very life-like. These collec- 
tions of people in wax represent the natives 
in their element. The Aquarium was quite 
a treat and interested us very much. Then 
the Wiirtemberg Collection of Animals and 
Birds was the largest collection I ever saw, 
and is perhaps the largest of its kind in the 
world. What pleased me most was the 
space upon the second story devoted to a 
Museum. The entire second floor was taken 
up, and the articles of manufacture illustrate 
the processes used showing the stages from 
the crude material to the finished product. 
Here we found many articles to interest us. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE t91 

They have on exhibition grain gathered from 
the various countries. After viewing the 
objects of interest in the building, and ob- 
serving the approach of night, we left the 
building and took a stroll about the grounds 
adjoining. The grounds are immense, and 
dotted here and there are fountains, some 
having three and four decks. The scenery 
was lovely and we enjoyed our stroll in the 
gathering twilight. 

As night was approaching we re-entered 
the Palace and secured seats in the Concert 
Hall to witness the evening’s entertainment. 
It is said that, go where you will, in any 
portion of the world, you will find some- 
thing to remind you of home. I was not 
looking for familiar faces, but felt they were 
near me when the prelude to the entertain- 
ment was a duet, entitled, “My Old Ken- 
tucky Home.” I am sure I never in my life 
experienced such a feeling as came over me 
then. I could imagine myself again in the 
United States, and at Ashleigh Hall as upon 
one evening at a social this same familiar 
song was sung. I could imagine myself 


192 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


among those same old friends who were 
present then. This was the first time we 
had run across anything so familiar since we 
landed in the old world, and it had a tendency 
to make us a little homesick. The English 
evidently enjoy our songs, for they encored 
it promptly. 

The performance was very good, but I 
was unable to give it all my attention, for I 
chanced to get into conversation with a 
stranger. Edna appeared interested in the 
performance, and I felt relieved, for I was 
being reminded of my native land in another 
way. 

“How do you like England by this time?” 
inquired the stranger, who sat near me, and 
had overheard Edna and me speaking of the 
United States. 

‘ ‘ V ery much, indeed, ” I replied. W e have 
been here a month, and after a few more 
trips we will visit Scotland.” 

“As you are from the States, perhaps you 
could use a note I have. I bought it cheap 
as the party wanted money, and it is not due 
for a month. If you can use it I will allow 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


193 


you a pretty good shave. It is for two hun- 
dred dollars. I don’t know just when I will 
be in the States, and would like to dispose 
of it, as I am in need of money just now.” 

“Do you happen to have it with you?” I 
inquired of him, and he produced the paper 
and handed it to me. I read as follows: 

“Four months after date I promise to pay 
to the order of Allen Franklyn Two Hundred 
Dollars, value received, negotiable and pay- 
able at the Duskydale National Bank. 

(Signed) Herbert Earle.” 

I was somewhat surprised when I recog- 
nized my own signature, thus proving it to be 
genuine, and also noticed a small mark that 
I was familiar with — made by Mr. Maurice 
Summerston, showing that it had been in 
the bank. It is not uncommon for paper of 
this kind to travel so far, but it is unlikely 
after the bank gets it. The whole story 
flashed through my brain instantly. I held 
here a clue to the robbery of the Duskydale 
'National Bank. I looked at the note for a 
few seconds, and then returned it, adding, 
“How much do you want for it?” 


194 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


“I am in need of money and will offer it 
for thirty pounds, either in English or United 
States money, as convenient; however, I 
would prefer English.” 

“Very well, then, as that is a pretty good 
shave, I believe I will take it. I cannot give 
you the money tonight, but will get it for 
you tomorrow morning. Where can I meet 
you?” 

He hesitated a moment, then said, “If it 
is convenient with you, meet me at — Com- 
merce Road, in London, at ten o’clock.” 

I signified that the arrangement would 
suit me, and made an entry of it in my note- 
book, then turned to give my attention to 
Edna and the concert. 

We remained until late. It was near 
midnight when we reached our rooms at the 
hotel. 


CHAPTER 17. 


The next morning promptly at ten o’clock 
I was in the small store-room, or, as the 
English call it, a “shop,” at — Commerce 
Road. I had made arrangements with two 
officers to be on hand at a moment’s notice. 
These men were hanging carelessly along the 
street waiting for my call. As arranged, no 
one could have known the scheme I was 
working, for they were really detectives in 
citizens’ dress. I waited but a few minutes 
for the stranger, who said he had the note. 
I drew from my pocket a roll of bank notes, 
and while pretending to be counting out the 
desired number, and noticing that the 
stranger held the paper in his hand, I gave 
a loud sneeze, and instantly the two officers 
entered. I asked them to take charge of 
him. The note in his hand was evidence 
against him. I accompanied them to the 
stationhouse where the proper record was 


196 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


made for a preliminary hearing, and the case 
will be called at once in the Queen’s Court. 
Unless the stranger can prove himself clear 
in this trial he will be taken to the United 
States for the final trial. 

When I returned to the hotel and told 
Edna what had occurred, she was greatly 
relieved, for the release of Mr. Summerston 
was forthcoming. The light in which I 
viewed it was this: If this party is guilty, 
and I believe he is, that he gathered some 
securities hoping to realize something on 
them from unwary strangers here. 

“Herbert, you have gotten to be quite a 
detective recently. I would not have thought 
it possible for you to capture the robber.” 

“Nor I either; but what is a fellow to do 
when the thief walks right into his hands?” 

Not wishing to have any interruption in 
our trip, I had my deposition prepared and 
sent along with the suspected stranger so I 
would not have to appear. 

♦ ♦ ♦ 

Edna sent a note to Professor Lattini, who 
was her instructor here in music several years 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


197 


ago, asking for an opportunity to call to see 
him. Edna was anxious for me to hear him 
play his violin, so I gladly accepted the 
invitation. Although I had never seen his 
picture, I was not unprepared, as Edna had 
pictured him so well in her descriptions that 
I almost felt that I had known him. He 
possessed the characteristics peculiar to the 
Italian musician. He let his hair grow rather 
long, being about eight inches, and it fell in 
curly wavelets over his neck and shoulders. 
He spoke very good English, though it was 
slightly broken, yet I did not experience any 
difficulty in understanding all he said. At 
the time we called he was at leisure and he 
entertained us with some of his favorite 
selections of Italian music. I confess I was 
charmed by the violin in the hands of this 
professor. It was as Edna predicted, I was 
carried away, as it were, and I can under- 
stand why he is such a good instructor— for 
he knows music. He was glad to see his 
former pupil, and extended us all the courte- 
sies possible, very entertaining, and we did 
not hurry away from him. 


198 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


We spent some weeks visiting places of 
interest in and about London. Then we 
went to Stratford-on-Avon, and visited the 
home of Shakespeare. In Scotland we visited 
Abbotsford, the home of Sir Walter Scott. 

I received a lengthy letter from Mr. 
Maurice Summerston, giving me a full de- 
scription of the trial of the man I sent away 
for the robbery of the Duskydale National 
Bank. The case was called as soon as he 
reached Duskydale. He plead guilty and 
turned State’s evidence, and two accomplices 
were convicted with him. Mr. Summerston 
said he would always be grateful to me for 
the substantial services I had rendered him 
when he was under suspicion, and although 
the stain cannot be entirely erased, that he 
had acted a bogus theft, the loyalty of some 
friends who stood by him mitigated the 
disgrace and he continued to hold his posi- 
tion in the bank. Now, that he has been 
honorably acquitted, he will be respected for 
his courage and fortitude. 

* * * * Hi 

Leaving the British Isles, we went to 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


199 


Havre, France, and after spending a few 
days in this place, continued to Paris where 
we found among the Parisians all that goes 
to fill out the giddy and gay of life. The 
sporty life of this gay city has a world-wide 
reputation, and some people come here for 
the pleasure of those sports, while many are 
attracted by the wonderful beauty of the 
pretty buildings it contains. Among our 
sight-seeing tours we visited the Palace of 
the Tuileries, the Bourse, the churches of 
Notre Dame and the Madeleine. We often 
spent an afternoon in the Champs-Elys6es 
(Elysian Fields), which has the reputation of 
being the most beautiful street in the world. 
We also visited Versailles, near Paris, and 
saw the magnificent palace built by the archi- 
tect, Mansard, as a residence for Louis XIV. 

We spent the month of December at 
Toulon, where the climate is so deliciously 
mild that the fig, date and orange flourish in 
the open air. At Rheims, the place where 
the sovereigns used to be crowned, we lived 
among the memories of past kings and 
queens, and thought of the great celebra- 


200 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


tions that once reigned supreme in the old 
walls. 

In early January we visited Rome, and had 
a delightful time under the bright Italian 
skies. This country possesses architectural 
beauty that eclipses anything I have seen. 
When visiting the fine buildings of its princi- 
pal cities, I wondered why so many of the 
Italians leave for the United States. We 
visited some of its ancient ruins, and were 
reminded of the old legends and traditions 
that once graced its now dilapidated palaces. 
The superstition and mythological lore of its 
past recalls the peculiarities of nature— how 
humanity will devise and scheme in order to 
appear in history. We saw the plaster, in 
human shape, of the nine goddesses of the 
muse, and also the gods of the year. What 
ignorance is here represented, and yet, where 
will you go in the civilized countries of the 
world today and not run upon a copy of the 
ancient mythology of Rome. You will find 
our literature interspersed with its charac- 
ters as if they had their part in our en- 
lightened ages as well as our own people 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


201 


who live and dwell among us. At Naples 
we found the once buried cities of Hercu- 
laneum and Pompeii, which are said to have 
been buried by the lava and ashes from 
Vesuvius in the year 79 A. D., and which 
have been unearthed but a few years. 

We spent February in traveling over 
southern Egypt, and found the country even 
worse than Rome in superstition. And 
quite noticeable was the disposition of 
the natives to live upon the tourist. We 
made a trip to Palestine, where we wandered 
over Bible lands and lived in memory of the 
old prophets and sages. Our stay there was 
limited by the fact that we experienced 
great difficulty in getting from place to place 
on account of the passports with which of- 
ficers tormented us. Sometimes I think 
this may be a providential means of protect- 
ing the sacred places and ruins. 

In Spain we visited the great Moorish 
palace, the Alhambra, in Grenada, which is 
the Moorish capitol. Here we lived among 
Moorish antiquities. It seems strange when 
one remembers that so much of this country 


202 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


of the old world represents and contains an- 
cient customs, antiquities, and natural marks 
of people who have been in their tombs for 
many centuries. What is the age of man upon 
the earth? Surely we have many evidences 
that he has existed for many thousands of 
years. What strange dispersion it was that 
has tended to leave the several families so 
peculiar to themselves— each different from 
the other! One may reflect, but where will 
he find the answer? 

Then to Gibraltar to see the great solid 
rock fortress. We put up at the same hotel 
where I stopped when I first landed after 
being shipwrecked. This time I am much 
happier than when I was here alone. Edna 
is with me. But when I first landed I did 
not know if she were living or dead. This 
great rock of Gibraltar was my first sight of 
land after leaving New York, and I shall 
never forget how it loomed up in the dis- 
tance, and the people on board shouted that 
the rock of Gibraltar could be seen. The 
sight was very imposing as it rose seemingly 
out of the water. In Gibraltar are all nations 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


203 


of the globe. We could not leave Spain 
without visiting Palos, the place from whence 
Columbus sailed when he started out to dis- 
cover America, or, as he believed, “a new 
route to India.” 

Where is the person, man or woman, who 
is not delighted with a visit to Switzerland. 
The picturesque mountain gorges of the 
Maritime Alps, the cascades of the famous 
Rhine, the Schaffhausen and the Staubbach 
are unsurpassed for their beauty, e It was 
early Spring as we strolled about this moun- 
tainous country: thus the foliage was lovely. 
The Springtime verdure of the Alps with their 
snow-capped peaks presented a beautiful con- 
trast. Switzerland has magnificent country 
roads, and the skill and engineering neces- 
sary to construct them are marvelous. At 
Lausanne we found the beautiful lake of 
Geneva, which is unrivalled for its beauty, 
and famed for its magnificent scenery. 

The first of May we reached Paris again. 
We were homeward bound, and wished to 
stop a week or two to participate in the 
delightful time during the gay season. Many 


204 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


of the places we visited upon our former 
trip were revisited. Then boarding the 
train, or carriage, as it is called, we reached 
Amsterdam, where we secured passage for 
New York City, and arrived in due time, 
without any mishap. 

The home of Mr. Lancing was a delight to 
our tired and weary feet. We spent two 
weeks there and saw many of our friends and 
acquaintances in the metropolis, then we 
started for our new home in Virginia. 

As we passed through the Capital City en 
route, we took advantage of the opportunity 
and spent several days visiting the magnifi- 
cent public buildings of Washington. , The 
flowers and shrubbery in the many parks 
and squares (which are not really squares in 
a geometrical sense) are very beautiful, and 
add greatly to the appearance of the city. 

It was the last of June when we reached 
the Shenandoah Valley. After traveling in 
different countries of the world we can speak 
from experience when we say, for us, there 
is no country so delightful to live in as Vir- 
ginia. We are both Virginia bom, and desire 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


205 


to make our home in the Old Dominion. 

“The shades of night were falling fast,” 
as Longfellow has it, when we arrived at the 
station where a carriage was waiting to con- 
vey us to Ashleigh Hall. This was the first 
time Edna had been in this part of the 
Shenandoah Valley. 

It was between twilight and dark when 
we reached Ashleigh Hall. The familiar 
spots along the road and the scenery ap- 
pealed to me on every hand, and to it all I 
gave a cordial greeting. I had been absent 
so long that it was a pleasure to greet them 
again. 

Edna did not hesitate to admire what little 
could be seen along the road. 

“We will take some trips over this coun- 
try when you can view it by daylight and 
thus have an opportunity to see in what a 
pretty section our home is located,” I told her. 
I did not fear her criticism, for I must con- 
fess that of all the beautiful places we have 
seen in our travels no place appeals to me as 
does this section, and I feel sure that she 
will soon become attached to it. 


206 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


The whip-poor-will’s song came to me as 
a welcome to my home-coming. 

The sheltering maples caused almost a 
darkness over the driveway as we wound to 
the great arch-gate, and the lofty towers of 
the dwelling were silhouetted against the 
darkening sky, relieved here and there by 
the ancient trees. 

Gleams of bright light shone from the 
windows and lay in a sheen upon the pave- 
ment. Someone was at the piano playing a 
waltz and we were not heard walking up 
the steps and reached the front door unan- 
nounced. But our steps in the hall caused 
the music to cease. The room contained 
quite a little crowd of relatives and friends 
to welcome us home. My mother had come 
to take charge of the festivity and to spend a 
while with us. After a round of greetings 
and congratulations, we were escorted to the 
large dining-room where a collation of the 
wonderful homemade dishes awaited us pre- 
pared and served to our taste. My mother 
had baked the bread and I ate with the relish 
of a boy, for I do not think she can be 


AT THE MEHCY OF FATE 


207 


excelled in this particular. She and Martha 
had prepared a feast fit for a king. 

We were indeed tired of our wanderings, 
and, while we enjoyed our travels, we were 
glad to settle down in our home. 

After assembling in the drawing-room, I 
requested Edna to get her violin, and we 
were treated to some choice music. The 
occasion was one to be proud of, and made 
us feel that life was a pleasure. 

I had every reason to be thankful upon 
our return. 

Oh, glorious June! thy days are bright; 

Thy roses bud, and burst in bloom. 

And scatter through the starry night 
A subtle, soft, and sweet perfume. 


CHAPTER 18. 


We visited my old home in Ridgeley. It 
was a pleasure to have Edna in the little 
village and recall the time when we first met. 
This is the only time we have been here to- 
gether since then— when we had such happy 
times as children, and where we were in 
love in our childish way. We did not intend 
spending more than a few days here, how- 
ever, as there have been many changes 
since then, and the place seemed strange to us. 

We called to see our friends, Mrs. Arling- 
ton and Ary. The bright prospects of matri- 
, monial life for Ary had been cut short, for 
Mr. Everette Cassell did not live more than 
five months after their marriage. Since 
his death Ary has been spending her time at 
home. It was a sad blow, for the young 
man seemed so promising. 

The second day after our arrival in the 
village we had a caller. It was Mrs. Myron, 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


209 


a woman now in affluent circumstances, but 
whose condition before her marriage was not 
so easy — in fact, she was thankful for suf- 
ficient clothing for herself. I am not at all 
in sympathy with “purse-proud aristocracy.” 
I mention this for reasons made so plain to 
me when I was a boy living here. I tried 
not to notice the slight shown by her, but I 
was not blind to it, and cannot forget it. I 
had engaged in a small business enterprise, 
and was forging my way ahead as became a 
boy of modest means. My ancestors are of 
honorable parentage, and I have never dis- 
honored them; but this did not bring me any 
wealth, and I had to struggle amid some 
difficulties. As soon as I got ahead, I went 
into the real estate business, and by careful 
and prudent judgment, and the assistance of 
a noble friend who counselled and advised 
me, I amassed wealth. I can never forget 
the struggles of my boyhood, nor shall I re- 
fuse to acknowledge the kindness of those 
who were friends in my youth— at the same 
time it is not easy to forget those who 
frowned upon me and endeavored to retard 


210 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


my efforts and tried to make me feel that I 
was beneath them. I conducted my business 
in an honorable way, and tried to treat every 
person with respect, as seemed to me right 
and proper. But because Mr. Myron pos- 
sessed more of this world’s goods than my 
family she believed she should hold her head 
higher in the social scale. I cared nothing 
for the parties which she gave in the height 
of the season’s fashion, and endeavored not 
to feel slighted when I was not invited. 
Everyone who commands respect should have 
it — rich or poor; and I treated her with the 
same deference I would accord the humblest 
laborer. I would not have attended her 
parties had she invited me for the reason 
that her people did not possess moral pride, 
which would have excluded them from the 
home of my grandparents, and I think that 
if a line is drawn it should be from a moral 
standard. But today Mrs. Myron came to 
spend awhile with us— to make us a social 
call— and I confess I was not prepared for it. 
Perhaps it was because I had amassed wealth 
far more than she possessed. I could not 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


211 


think she would have come except to call 
upon Edna and me. She was very agree- 
able and pleasant as an entertainer. We 
chatted merrily until, perhaps, heedless of 
the flight of time, she found she had stayed 
longer than she had intended. Just as she 
was about to depart she gave Edna and me a 
very cordial invitation to visit them before 
leaving for Ashleigh Hall, and what was 
more, she insisted that we promise to call. 

“Mrs. Myron, I thank you for your very 
kind invitation, but I must decline accepting 
it for the reason that we will not be able to 
remain long enough; and, too, there is an- 
other reason that debars us from returning 
your very pleasant call. While we appreciate 
your visit to its fullest extent, and I would 
not have you think we do not enjoy good com- 
pany, at the same time it is to be regretted 
that we cannot visit you. You are aware 
of the facts that existed beween us when 
I was struggling in this place. Then, Mrs. 
Myron, you gave parties, and they did you 
credit as an entertainer, I have heard, but 
you felt that you had sufficient reason for 


212 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


excluding me from your friendly gatherings. 
You held yourself aloof then. You possessed 
more wealth than I, but that was all— my 
character is above reproach. I never visited 
your home, and the only time I was inside 
your house was upon one occasion of busi- 
ness, and when that was done with I left. 
Now, that I am rich, and have married a 
lovely girl,” with a smile at Edna, who was 
standing near, and wore an expression of 
consternation at my conduct, “you may 
think I am a fit subject to take into your 
social realm. Because I say this, do not for 
one moment think I appreciate your offer 
any the less, but to explain why we must de- 
cline your invitation. I say this in the most 
sincere manner possible, and have now, as I 
have always had, a kind feeling toward your 
family. Do not deem me too proud to 
notice the Ridgeley people— I am not foolish. 
I shall treat you with the utmost respect, as 
I have always done, and also the others, 
but I must ask you to excuse us from ac- 
cepting your kind invitation to call.” 

“Indeed, Mr. Earle,” replied Mrs. Myron, 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


213 


“No one can regret this state of affairs more 
than I do. While I realize that I have given 
you suflBcient reason to feel as you do, still, 
I do hope we may grow to be good friends, 
and you will allow me an opportunity to 
atone for my past unkindness. It is grow- 
ing late and I must say good-bye. Nothing 
would please me more than to have you 
and Mrs. Earle call.” 

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Myron. 
Good-bye.” 

And she was gone. 


CHAPTER 19. 


Six years have passed since Edna and I 
returned from our trip abroad and came to 
make our home at Ashleigh Hall. Our seven 
years of married life have been unalloyed 
happiness and contentment, for we have 
continued to love each other as devotedly as 
a wedded couple can. As time passes on, 
our attachment seems more binding, and 
our fondness for each other increases with 
the lapse of years. 

Today is the anniversary of our marriage, 
and I have spent each anniversary of that 
happy event in a reflection on the past. I 
love to remember the past, to recount the 
incidents which spiced the life I have lived. 
I rejoice that my life has been in the country, 
away from the follies and vices of the city 
allurements for dissipation. I have never 
seen a place where I felt more content than 
at this old home. Here I may be free from 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 215 

the lures of the city and evil companions. 

In addition to the home place, I own a 
small farm adjoining, and was fortunate to 
secure the services of a worthy tenant who 
does the farming according to modem 
methods and research. Aside from the 
profits derived from scientific cultivation of 
the soil, the pleasure and satisfaction I get 
out of the vocation only the experienced can 
understand. Most of our time is spent here 
in our home, where, surrounded with some 
of the best literature — books, magazines, 
and newspapers— we have learned to make 
it quite homelike. Edna’s violin and the 
piano furnish music to drive away the cares, 
and we believe that a home in the country 
may possess many advantages over the con- 
gested city. A country home need not neces- 
sarily be an isolated place. 

Six years ago Edna and I began our home 
life here at Ashleigh Hall, and I have told 
her that today is our anniversary. The old 
place appears much the same it did upon our 
arrival, except the addition to our house- 
hold. The lawn spreads itself in front of the 


216 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


house covered with a smooth grassy carpet, 
with here and there a bed of flowers and 
foliage plants in geometrical diagrams, to 
relieve the monotony — which does credit to 
Joe who continues to be my gardener. I am 
sitting upon a bench under one of the shade 
trees, where I can hear the dropping of the 
sparkling water playing from the fountain. 
The magnificent trees extend their majestic 
branches over the driveway, and the dark 
green leaves are a delightful blend to the 
grassplot. The stone of the old house has 
been darkened by time and adds to the color 
scheme in contrast to the verdure of its sur- 
roundings. 

Beneath one of the lofty trees, and upon 
a rustic bench sits Edna, a beautiful woman, 
and near her are the two children who have 
blessed our marriage— Alfred and Ida; the 
former four years old, and the latter two. 
Edna is watching their every motion, as they 
romp round to their hearts’ content in play. 
The elder I named in honor of my friend, 
Alfred Floyd, of New York City, and the 
younger is a namesake of Edna’s mother. 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


217 


Not far from this pleasant little group is 
my mother, resting upon a reclining easy 
chair, and a book in her hand, evidently so 
absorbed that she is apparently unaware of 
the caprices of the children. She spends 
much of her time with us, for she is devoted 
to Edna and the children; but just now she 
has become interested in her reading. She 
does not seem to have aged perceptibly 
since we arrived six years ago, and 
the tranquil joy upon her face seems to as- 
sure everyone that she does not wish for 
anything in addition to her present happiness. 

I have a book and a few sheets of paper, 
and have been writing, and occasionally Edna 
glances at me, only to find my eyes resting 
upon her. 

As I sit here and reflect upon my past life, 
and remember all the little episodes of my 
history, it thrills me with emotion. There 
are many things that, looking from an ex- 
perienced standpoint, I might have avoided. 
But if I could live my life over again, it is 
probable that mistakes would be made, and 
it would be very much the same. “How 


218 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


fortunate it is for self-sufficient mortals that 
only day by day is the veil of the future 
raised for us.” And well it is so, for if we 
could pull aside the curtain of the future and 
see all that is in store for us, the real charm 
of life would be lost. The sorrow would 
crush out the happiness. “Into each life 
some rain must fall.” 

The joy of the home-circle is wonderful, 
and few realize the comforts and pleasures 
afforded or the opportunities in store. If 
more thought were given to the home there 
would not be so many wayward people. 
Every man should have a home: here his 
first duties lie. In the home-circle children 
receive their first impressions, whether good 
or evil— impressions which are to mould the 
character for life. Happy is the young man 
who has a home, who has a devoted mother, 
and a companion whose counsel will cheer 
and strengthen him amid life’s perplexities, 
thus rendering him more able to combat the 
world’s temptations and difficulties. The 
influence of an intelligent and capable wife 
and mother has left its mark upon the great 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 219 

men of the world. Parents should be com- 
panions to their children, giving proper in- 
struction to resist and overcome the evil 
influences which come so easily to them 
when out on life’s desolate seas. The recol- 
lections of a good home have saved many 
from the pitfalls. 

Ary Arlington is still at her home in Ridge- 
ley, and remains the young widow. 

Mr. Maurice Summerston continues to hold 
his position as cashier of the Duskydale 
National Bank. He has succeeded in living 
down the feeling of guilt entertained by a few 
when the bank was robbed some years ago. 
Now he is esteemed by all who come to know 
him. He is trying to live a Christian, and 
is an active worker in the leading church of 
that place, and has learned to follow the in- 
junction: “Let your light so shine before 
men, that they may see your good works, 
and glorify your Father which is in Heaven.” 

‘ ‘ They sin who tell us love can die. ” True 
love is a gift from God, and may be made 
everlasting, and when properly nurtured it 
sends its influence upon all who come under 


220 


AT THE MERCY OF FATE 


its scope— like a rose geranium when touched. 

Again Edna looks at me. This time she 
asks me if I am writing about her, I look so 
intently at her. I tell her I am writing a 
history of my life, but she thinks I am only 
joking, and does not realize how prominently 
she figures in it. I trust she will not object 
to it being published, as I have refrained 
from using our real names, thinking it would 
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